


The Great Design Unfinished

by octobergryphon, QueenVee1



Series: The Great Design Unfinished [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Covenant (2006), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU magic, All the swears, Anal Sex, Assault, Au modern with magic, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Body Horror, Choking, College, Different Powers, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Friends to Lovers, Gore, Knives, M/M, Magic, Multi, OT3, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Rimming, ShieldShock - Freeform, Slow Burn, Smut, Stalking, Stucky - Freeform, Threesome, Torture, UST, Violence, WinterShieldShock - Freeform, WinterShock - Freeform, bring your aloe, framily, frat houses, handjobs, lots of blood, snake god cults, the slowest of burns, we tried to make it fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:11:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 89,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13158027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octobergryphon/pseuds/octobergryphon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVee1/pseuds/QueenVee1
Summary: The Sons of Ipswich possess otherworldly powers, but they are not the only ones with this gift. On the edge of his 21st birthday, Steve Rogers is coming closer to his own Ascension. A junior at Trinity College, he navigates his newfound abilities and group projects with his brothers Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Clint Barton at his side.How does Darcy Lewis fit into their close group?Will Steve and Bucky finally see in each other what everyone else does?What’s up with all those missing girls?Part One of The Great Design Unfinished series. Friends to lovers, Stucky with eventual WinterSheildShock, and a dash of Clintasha.





	1. Take the Time to Waste a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This little bit of wording started as our fic for the Stucky Big Bang 2017 - but we had scope creep problems and revised what we posted (which is called ‘Creatures of a Brief Season’ and be found in our works). If you enjoyed Creatures of a Brief Season, we hope you'll enjoy this! Now with 100% more blood, awkward glances, and WinterShieldShock!
> 
>  

_Trinity College, Hartford, Connecticut._

“Please tell me you’re the kind of guy who actually does their part in group work, because I cannot be in a group with that dudebro over there.” Darcy Lewis said as introduction, throwing herself into the empty seat next to him in the auditorium.

Steve Rogers looked up from his sketchbook, pencil pausing on the paper as he glanced at the dark-haired woman who’d appeared in the seat at his right. He blinked behind his glasses, blue gaze surprised by her arrival and her words, as if this wasn’t the first conversation they’d ever had.

“Do _you_?” he asked after a moment, once he’d worked out what her jumble of words had meant. He blamed the time it’d taken for him to respond on the earliness of the class, and _not_ on the hint of amusement in her hazel eyes. He was proud that he hadn’t jumped at her sudden appearance, as he’d been _completely_ engrossed in his sketch and ignoring anything else in the auditorium.

“My work and most of everyone else’s,” Darcy answered, beginning to root around in her bag in search of a pen, “but I’m hoping to be pleasantly surprised.” She looked back at Steve and smiled, and found him smiling back.

Behind Steve and the new arrival, a sandy blond eyebrow rose. Clint Barton looked over at Sam Wilson with a slight upturn of lips and a small shrug in his shoulders. _You know her?_

_No_ , Sam thought back. _No idea. She’s cute though._

Clint shrugged. _I like redheads better_. He nodded at said woman in the back corner of the class, smiling when Sam gave him an impressed smile.

“History is one of my favorite subjects,” Darcy advised, leaning closer to Steve, “and I promise I can hold my own in the group. Is it just you, or....” She glanced around the steadily filling auditorium, apparently sizing up students as they entered.

“Group?”

Darcy turned to look up at Clint with a grin, unaware that the two men behind them were with the blond, but happy when she turned and found them smiling in her direction. “Oh! Hi!”

“The syllabus says there’ll be a group project over the course of the semester,” Steve answered Clint’s question, pointing to the paper he’d picked up from the desk at the front of the room. He watched Clint shuffle through his own papers with a roll of his eyes.

“Here,” Sam said with a laugh, handing Clint his copy.

Darcy nodded at Sam and Clint before turning back to Steve. “So it’s the three of you? We’ll need one more, then.”

_Bucky, where are you?_ Steve distractedly thought in his best friend’s direction, watching the girl as she grabbed her phone and started tapping on the screen. He ignored the look Clint was shooting his way, seeing Sam punch Clint’s shoulder in his peripheral vision. 

A hand ruffled Steve’s hair from behind and he jumped, focus pulled away from watching the girl’s fingers as they beat out a dizzying rhythm on her phone. Her fingernails were a bright green with a few chips here and there, and he was surprised how quickly they seemed to fly over the screen. Steve felt his cheeks heat when he realized how long he’d been looking at her.

“Thanks for saving me a seat, guys,” Bucky Barnes greeted as he slumped into the chair next to Steve, throwing a smile in Clint and Sam’s direction. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as they gave him wide eyed expressions, nodding their heads emphatically toward the other side of Steve. He leaned forward onto the desk to peer around his best friend.

His eyes echoed their widened surprise as he caught sight of the cute girl to Steve’s right. She was pretty, all dark curls and pouting lips, and her eyes were a pretty shade of hazel. He smiled when she glanced up in his direction. He got it now, the looks Clint and Sam had given him when he arrived. 

“Hello, gorgeous, I’m James Barnes,” he said towards Darcy, giving his best and most charming smile. “Hopefully these guys haven't scared you off.”

“Them?” Darcy asked, amusement tinting her features. “Not yet, but there’s still time. It’s nice to meet you, James. I’m Darcy Lewis.”

“Clint Barton,” Clint said, smiling when she glanced back at him, “this one is Sam Wilson, and that there is Steve Rogers.”

Darcy glanced at each of them in turn, eyes lingering on the upturned lips of their newest arrival before they landed back on Steve. “So do I get to join your boys’ group, or do I need to go find myself some other partners?”

When no one spoke, Steve cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure why his friends had suddenly become mute, but he had a feeling it had to do with the looks they were throwing at him over her shoulder. “Sure. I mean, your handwriting has _got_ to be better than Clint’s,” Steve replied. 

She smiled at him, hazel eyes shining behind her glasses, and Steve felt awkward and weird before he forced himself to look away, trying to turn his attention to the syllabus. He felt Bucky’s arm stretch along the back of his chair, his friend leaning forward to say something to Darcy, but fell quiet when the door at the front of the room opened, a large blond man and a brunette woman appearing from the teacher’s entrance. 

Steve tucked his sketchbook away and pulled out his notebook. At his side, he heard Darcy make a small noise, glancing over as she whipped out her phone and began texting quickly.

_JANEY! You didn't tell me you were going to be TAing this semester. The sweater does great things for your puppies._

“Good morning and welcome to History Two Oh Five.” The professor’s voice carried across the auditorium, quieting conversations around the room. “You’ve enrolled in this course because it’s either required for your major or because you like history and didn’t want to take a maths class. I applaud your choice. I am Professor Odinson, and this is Ms. Jane Foster, your teaching assistant.”

_And the teacher is a babe! These were important things you needed to tell your best friend!_

Steve hunched forward slightly, making notes on the syllabus and jotting down when assignments would be due. He felt his chair move as Bucky placed his boot on the bottom rungs of his seat, stretching his legs and scratching his hair. _You were still in bed when I left,_ Steve chastised the older man.

 _I got here on time, didn’t I? Besides, it gave you time to talk to this doll_ , Bucky thought back, grey eyes sliding to the mass of dark hair in the desk on Steve’s other side. He watched her fingers beat out a frantic message before she set the phone aside. 

_Yeah, a deep conversation consisting of two whole words_ , Steve replied, rolling his pencil between his fingers. He watched Darcy shove her glasses up her nose with the end of her pen, and his lips twitched up slightly as they fell right back down again. 

The professor’s voice intruded on his thoughts and he shifted his gaze back to the syllabus to see if he'd missed anything Odinson had said about the first paper. Steve jumped a bit when a folded up piece of paper - pink with - _is that a pony?_ \- fell on top of his notebook. He opened it to see loopy handwriting.

_My number is 804-555-3278. Text me later so we can set up study times with the boys?_

Steve’s wide eyes flicked over his glasses to see Darcy wink at him. She turned back to her phone and he continued to look at her, slightly mystified. 

_Nice going Rogers!_

_Yeah, share with the class, stud!_

Clint and Sam each chortled in Steve’s head. He told them both to go fuck themselves before turning his attention back the front of the classroom. 

The teacher was a very large, very well built man whose voice commanded attention. His teacher’s assistant was dwarfed compared to the professor and looked much more serious than her colleague. Steve’s eyebrows rose when Darcy threw a thumbs up gesture toward the front of the class. The TA rolled her eyes, though a small smile ghosted onto her lips seconds later.

“History isn’t just a list of old facts and people that no one cares about. History teaches us why the world is the way it is. The Revolution. The Civil War. Civil Rights. NASA and the space program. All of these events have an impact on your life every day. If you understand history, you understand how each moment could become something extraordinary. And that’s how you should live your life.” Professor Odinson turned toward his assistant. “Ms. Foster?” 

At his cue, Jane jumped in. “Your study groups will be tasked with choosing a one-year time period from the past and analyzing its far reaching importance to today. This will be supplemented with weekly course material and quizzes.”

As the clock ticked down, most people in the class grew a bit restless. Steve frowned as he glanced around the room, finding himself leaning to his right toward Darcy. He was surprised when they both started talking at the same. 

“I hate -” 

“I can’t stand -”

He stopped, smiling in her direction. 

“Packing up early?” she finished, laughter dancing in her eyes as she met his gaze. “Yeah, me either.” Darcy leaned closer to him, keeping her voice low so they didn’t distract anyone else. “I don’t care if there’s only four minutes left: you wait. It’s about _respect_.” 

When she leaned into him, Steve set his pencil down. As they huddled their heads together, he caught the scent of something floral in her hair. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it smelled _good_ , and he found himself taking a deep breath of it, smiling at Darcy when she leaned back.

“Alright. That’s enough for today,” Professor Odinson said, a note of finality in his already commanding tone. “Form your groups, no more than five people, think about possible topics, and read chapters one and two from ‘ _People’s History of the United States_ ’ by Howard Zinn. We’ll discuss on Thursday.“ 

Darcy shifted her gaze back to the boys as the class ended, giving them all a wide smile. “I’d love to stay and chat, gents, but I’m the idiot who scheduled an appointment on the other side of campus and has to grab breakfast on the way.” She focused her gaze on Steve, and her grin brightened a bit. “Dinner tonight? D Hall? Lemme know, Steve.” 

With that, Steve watched Darcy twist a pen up into her hair to hold it in place and throw her bag over her shoulder. Her phone was out and in her hands, fingers already flying as she made her way out of the auditorium. Steve watched her go, unable to keep the slightly baffled expression from his face.

Bucky looked at the back of Steve’s head as the blond’s eyes followed the path of Darcy’s departure. When Steve looked down at his notebook, a puzzled look on his face, Bucky knew what was running through his best friend’s mind. This was the first time in a long time that a girl had focused on _Steve_. Bucky hated it, but most people tended to overlook Steve for one reason or another. It was shame, as Bucky thought Steve was smart, and funny, and one of the most caring people he’d ever met. Steve was his best friend, his _oldest_ friend, and he deserved attention.

Unable to explain the weird feeling in his stomach as he looked at the expression on Steve’s face, Bucky ran his hand through already messy hair, repeating to himself that he was _glad_ someone had finally noticed what he already saw in Steve.

“I’m good for dinner,” Bucky said after a moment of silence. Clint nodded in response, grinning widely as he looked between both Bucky and Steve. Sam was laughing too hard at their expressions to respond out loud.

“So, what are your thoughts on the Salem witch trials?” Darcy asked later that night, squirting an obscene amount of ketchup on top of her fries. Her eyes flitted from face to face, though they paused on Steve’s longer. She was trying to split her attention between the four of them, but something always seemed to pull her eyes back to Steve and she had to force herself to look away.

Sam’s arm was slung across the back of Clint’s chair, his dark eyes glancing around the Memorial Union’s cafeteria. At her words, he turned his head sharply to look at her, eyebrows lifting. “What?”

“The witch trials.” She shrugged her shoulders softly. “They’ve always been interesting to me. Not the Wicca ‘I wear black lipstick and that makes me one with the dark’ stuff, but the _actual people_. Giles Corey was pressed by stones. Know what he said when they asked him to confess? ‘More Weight.’ The man was a badass and didn’t deserve to die just because some stupid girls got bored and made up a story. Not to _mention_ the way it links to the social expectations of women in Puritan society.”

Clint’s blue eyes widened as she began to eat. _Did she just…_

_Yes. Yes she did._ Sam threw him a surprised but amused smile.

_You don’t think…_

_No, Clint. I’m almost positive that the pretty girl we just met **today** isn’t aware we have Powers._

Darcy stuffed a few fries into her mouth and looked up when no one said anything. The boys seemed to be sharing a look between themselves that she didn’t fully understand. She stopped chewing, worried she’d said something wrong. “I mean… I’m open to other ideas, too.”

Clint shrugged and stuffed more pizza into his mouth. 

“Don't even think about saying anything until you finish chewing. It's bad enough the rest of us have to deal with your table manners,” Sam said, glaring at Clint. 

“Besides, there's a lady here, and she probably hits harder than any of us,” Steve added, mentally cringing the second the words had left his mouth. Why had he said that? Was he really that bad at making conversation with a pretty girl? Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

He’d been nervous throughout his afternoon classes, baffled that Darcy had given her number to him, and not Bucky, or even Sam. Her friendliness seemed genuine, and Steve was trying very hard to give her the benefit of the doubt, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone had been friendly with him just to get to Bucky. 

“I don't know about that,” Darcy said with a smile in his direction. “I can’t say I’ve ever been known for my right hook, but I _do_ know how to download someone’s search history and send it to their parents.” 

She laughed as the looks on their faces slowly turned to horror. 

“She’s terrifying,” Sam’s said. Clint agreed with a solemn nod.

“But like I said,” Darcy shrugged “I'm fine with any other topic. I'm an equal opportunity kind of girl.”

_It's not like we’d have to give this any real work other than finding sources that have something other than ‘Damnation’ in the title_ , Bucky thought at the three other men. 

Darcy looked between the four of them when they went quiet again. She watched them look at each other, somehow having a conversation without anything being said. Part of her thought it was odd, but another said she didn’t know them well enough and maybe they were just that good of friends, the kind where words weren’t always necessary. She knew she and Jane could do the same thing sometimes.

When enough time had passed that she felt a little uncomfortable, she reached out and poked Steve’s arm. “Hello?” 

Steve jumped when she touched him, almost knocking his drink over. He cursed and managed to catch it, cheeks instantly erupting in heated embarrassment. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Grinning, Darcy grabbed a few napkins and held them out to Steve. “It’s okay. You all went radio silent.”

Bucky grinned at the pink filling Steve’s cheeks. “Sorry. Sometimes it’s like we know what the other is thinking.” He saw Clint and Sam grin, watching as Steve looked up at him with an unamused expression.

Steve dabbed at his hands, ignoring the looks the other boys were throwing his way. “I think the witch trials would be a good topic. There’s a lot there to explore and research, so we’d have plenty of stuff to draw from. The syllabus said we need to brainstorm an outline for next Monday. I can make and invite you to a google doc?”

“That works for me. Between classes and work I should be able to do some reading.” Darcy shifted her attention from James back to Steve with a large smile. She liked looking at Steve, and it was so easy with him sitting right next to her that it didn’t even occur to her to look away. He had such pretty eyes - the first thing that had drawn her to him in the auditorium - and the black frames of his glasses only highlighted the gorgeous blues of his irises. His smile was small, but _real_ , and she felt the tiniest thump when it was directed her way.

Movement pulled her attention over Steve’s shoulder. Darcy lifted her arm and waved at the familiar figure, grin brightening. “And I know _just_ who to ask for pointers!”

The table glanced over to see their TA heading in their direction, carrying a tray with a large plate of salad greens and a water. The brunette offered the group gathered a small smile as she approached.

“You know the TA? Oh, I'll be getting an A in this class for sure.”

“I wouldn't go that far, Mr. Wilson,” Jane said with a small smile as she took the open seat next to Darcy. 

Darcy feigned a heavy, exasperated sigh at Jane, leaning onto the table and holding her chin in her palm. “You couldn't just _pretend_ so I'd look super cool? Some best friend you are.” She grinned when Jane simply rolled her eyes.

Clint waved at Jane in greeting, reaching out to snag one of Darcy’s fries even though his mouth was still full of pizza. 

Darcy turned back to the boys, grabbing another fry from her plate. “Yeah, Jane and me go way back. She's one of the reasons why I came to Trinity in the first place.”

Rolling his eyes at Clint’s antics, used to them after all these years, Sam gave Jane an impish grin. “Please, feel free to call me Sam.”

Jane eyed him, mouth turning up in a small smile. “I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Wilson.”

“The boys and I just decided that our project’s going to be on the Salem Witch Trials,” Darcy said, leaning back in her chair.

Bucky watched Steve’s lips twitch upward when Darcy’d said ‘the boys,’ though he hid it by taking a drink of his soda. Smiling to himself, Bucky tore his gaze from Steve’s cheeks to the newest addition at the table.

“That should be an interesting topic, especially with the new research hypothesizing that rye poisoning might have been a contributing factor to the hysteria,” Jane said with a nod, taking a bite of her salad.

“Damn, I love that brain of yours,” Darcy humme, laughing when Jane shrugged her shoulders. She turned back to the four men at the table. “See that, boys? It was obviously meant to be. We should get together soon. Maybe watch a few documentaries about the trials?”

“We’d be willing to host,” Bucky offered, ignoring the pointed look Steve sent his way. “Maybe get some pizza?”

Darcy grinned at Bucky. “Perfect.”

“But was she serious?”

“Stone. Serious.”

“Serious about what?”

Clint grinned at Bucky as he dropped the plate of microwaved nachos on the table in front of him and Sam, knocking into Steve where he was trying to beat Sam in an intense round of Halo. “The waitress at the bar last night. She asked for my ID.”

Bucky climbed onto Clint’s bed, eyebrow raising. “And this was odd? Why? With all the underage drinking they’re starting to crack down.”

“It wasn’t that she asked me for ID, it was _what_ she ID’d me for.”

When Clint just grinned at him, Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing the other man was eating up the dramatic tension he was creating. “And what, great thespian, did she ID you for?”

“A Shirley Temple.”

Having been fragged by Sam, Steve set his controller aside, snorting into is coke at Clint’s big reveal. “Now you know how I feel _all of the time_. At least people think you’re old enough to be carded, instead of looking at you like you’re still in middle school.”

“Aw, Steve, no.”

“Aw, Clint, yes. Can’t complain about the kids menu, though. I do love a Happy Face pancake.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a giant nerd, Rogers?” Sam asked, pointing at him with a chip. 

Bucky frowned. “Wait, do Shirley Temples even _have_ alcohol in them?”

Sam pointed to his nose with one hand and toward Bucky with the other. “No, James. No they do _not_ have alcohol, thus my worry at the state of her education. If she’s a student here, then she really needs to take some remedial courses.”

“It could have been an honest mistake. With all the fru-fru cocktail names out there, maybe she just hadn’t heard that one before.”

“That’s a very good point, Clint. Maybe she thought it _did_ have alcohol in it and was just being thorough and doing her job. What do you think about that, Sam?”

Sam put up both of his hands, giving Steve an acknowledging nod of his head. “You’re right, Rogers. You’re completely right. I made a brash assumption based on one incident and it was unfair of me to do so.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as their antics, then frowned softly. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever even _had_ a Shirley Temple.”

Clint slammed his hand on his thigh, the three others’ eyes widening at the sound. “That’s it! A round for all of us then! Huzzah!”

“I don’t even know what’s in a Shirley Temple. Do you even have the ingredients here?” Bucky asked, pulling out his phone to search for himself.

“Do we have the ingredients? Do we - I am affronted, Barnes. Affronted, I tell you,” Clint’s hand clutched at his chest before he turned to look at Sam, voice quieting lightly. “ _Do_ we have the ingredients?”

All four of them looked at each other silently before letting out loud guffaws of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	2. I‘m the Satellite, You’re the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”That was our friendship: equal parts irritation and cooperation.”_ ― **Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children**
> 
> Darcy and the boys spend time getting to know each other. As their friendship blossoms, something dark is on the horizon. 

“Hemingway?” 

Darcy watched in dismay as Jane shook her head. 

“Shelley,” was the answer from her friend as she marked a large red ‘X’ on the answer sheet. 

“Ugh! I’ve never been good at this kind of stuff. Give me facts. Facts and dates and I’ve got answers for days. But ‘which writers work best exemplifies the ‘grace under pressure’ literature trope’? This is like a second language I can’t understand!” Darcy ran a hand through her hair, trying to commit the answer to memory.

“I’ve never been good with it either,” Jane agreed, taking a bite from the red vine in her hand, casting a considering look in Darcy’s direction. 

“Liar. You’re good at everything.” Frustrated, Darcy pushed her book away and threw herself back on her bed with a sigh, staring up at the twinkling lights that hung from her ceiling. “I hate that my liberal arts degree has _art_ in it.”

“Prerequisites are necessary for a fully balanced education.” Though the words came from Jane’s mouth, it sounded more like a robot that had been forced to recite the phrase over and over again. Darcy guessed that’s what happened when you worked for a liberal arts college.

“Whatever, I need a break, and you can no longer ignore my twenty questions.” Darcy rolled onto her side, resting her chin in her hand as she looked at her best friend. “Talk to me about Professor McHottie. What’s the what? Is he single and ready to mingle? Is he available for oogling? What’s he _smell_ like?”

Jane studiously ignored Darcy’s more colorful questions, reaching out to snag a highlighter from the veritable mountain of writing implements in front of her. “He’s my boss.”

“No, the _college _is your boss,” Darcy corrected with a wag of her finger, “he’s just a colleague.”__

“Semantics.”

“Exactly!” Darcy exclaimed as she poked Jane’s side with her toe, grinning when Jane moved out of reach with a pointed soft glare. “He isn’t the one writing your paychecks. After this semester you’ll be free and can jump on him.”

Jane threw her an exasperated glare. “ _Darcy Lewis_ , we are not going to be talking about me jumping on _anyone_!” When Darcy made a groan of sadness, Jane climbed up and laid down on the bed beside her friend, chewing on her candy. “But since you brought it up…” 

Darcy’s face lit up, thinking she was about to get premium dirt on the hot professor.

“...I find it rather interesting that you managed to find yourself surrounded by handsome co-eds on the first day of class.”

Even as disappointment pinged through her when Jane changed the subject, the topic of her new friends made her mouth lift up in a smirk. “They _are_ pretty, aren’t they?” Darcy asked, immediately thinking about Steve’s blue eyes behind those black-framed glasses. “But that didn’t really have anything to do with it.” At Jane’s snort of disbelief, Darcy waved her hand in the air. “I’m not saying I don’t have eyes, because I _do_ recognize they’re pretty, but…”

“But what?” Jane prodded, brow knitting thoughtfully as she looked at Darcy.

“...tt was the way he was looking at his notes and the syllabus before class started. Steve, I mean. While Clint and Sam were looking around the room, Steve’s head was down looking over everything. He was already working. _That’s_ why I thought he’d be a good fit.”

“Why _they’d_ be a good fit, you mean.”

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

Jane smiled to herself, certain that her friend had willfully ignored slip of the tongue. Darcy had gone on plenty of dates since she’d started at Trinity, but this was the first time Jane had ever seen her friend have a _crush_ on someone. She’d seen the way Darcy looked at Steve during dinner the other night and that same spark was in Darcy’s eyes now, thinking about the small blond with glasses.

After chewing the rest of her candy, Jane sat up, looking at Darcy with a grin. “Okay. Break over. Back to comparative literature.” She overlooked the angry groan that came from her best friend as she stretched to grab one of the textbooks at their feet.

Steve had long been curled up in bed, earbuds in and killer rabbit slippers staring up at him from his feet at the end of the bed. Bucky was across the room on his own bed, surrounded by books and highlighters, his laptop balanced precariously on a knee.

Steve was supposed to be working on the reading for his lit class, but he kept getting distracted. He kept sneaking glances at Bucky from the corner of his eye. His best friend was down to just his undershirt and grey boxer briefs, the legs riding high enough that Steve could see where the dusky gold of Bucky’s summer tan faded into the top of his thighs. They had the window open to let in the late summer air, and it meant that Bucky had to keep flipping his hair out of his eyes, though it never seemed to stay put. 

“So, Darcy...” Bucky’s voice broke the companionable silence as he highlighted a sentence in his open textbook. His tone was light and conversational and he kept his eyes on the book in front of him, but he could see when Steve looked over at him in his peripheral vision.

Steve blinked and waited for Bucky to elaborate, but no other words came. He waited a beat longer and then raised his eyebrows at his friend. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, highlighter scratching slowly across another sentence, “have you thought about asking her out?”

Steve pushed up on his elbow and peered across the space at Bucky, frowning slightly. “What makes you say that?”

Bucky dropped his pen and scratched at a phantom itch on his exposed chest, looking over at Steve with a shrug. “I don’t know. She’s your type, right? Dark hair. Lips. Bright eyes.” Bucky knew Steve had a preference when it came to the ladies, and it appeared like Darcy ticked all his boxes.

Steve shook his head, turning back to his book, pretending to read but not really paying attention to the words on the page. “She’s just being nice, Buck. When I'm with the three of you I'm the easy way to get in.”

“Hey,” Bucky frowned, “don't do that, punk.” He closed his laptop and sat up a little straighter, turning his full attention to his best friend.

Bucky thought Peggy - Steve’s only serious girlfriend - had seen the real Steve Rogers; she’d seen the strength in his lean limbs and slight frame, the goodness of his smile, the glint in Steve's eyes when he was being a shit. She’d looked at the whole of Steve and loved him for it. 

Tony had been the polar opposite of Peggy, but the man had appreciated the wicked wit and smarts behind Steve’s clunky glasses and the pure beauty that came from his slim fingers when he sketched. Neither of those relationships had ultimately worked out, but they’d at least seen Steve for who he was and what he had to offer. Bucky saw all that too, but he’d always been too scared to do anything about it.

Bucky didn't understand how people could just dismiss Steve, and he hated even more how it made Steve feel, hated that it made Steve think of himself as _less_ somehow. It’d been happening for years, but Bucky hoped that maybe Darcy would be different. It was worth a shot, in any case, and Bucky thought Steve deserved to find out.

“Darcy only had eyes for you,” Bucky said, thinking about dinner the previous night. She’d been friendly with all of them, even keeping up with Clint’s snark and Sam’s jokes, but her eyes had continually strayed back to Steve and lingered.

...not that Bucky had been looking at her the entire time. Or at Steve. It was just something he’d noticed. He was just acknowledging a pretty girl and keeping a protective eye on his best friend. That’s all it was. Nothing more.

“Leave off, Buck, okay?” Steve’s said, voice sounding resigned. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, and Steve felt the same way he had the eight-hundred _other_ times this argument had occurred.

Bucky sighed heavily, pulling himself to his feet. He crossed the floor and took a seat on the edge of Steve’s bed. “What's going on with you lately? We’re here. You just need to get out there. Go on some horrible dates, drink too much, oversleep and skip a few classes. That’s what college is for.”

Steve leaned his head into his palm, avoiding looking Bucky in the eye. He knew he wasn't as funny as Sam, as easygoing as Clint, or as incredibly charming as Bucky. This was only highlighted by the fact that he hadn't Ascended yet, while the three of them had already gotten their Power.

“You're probably right,” Steve mumbled. He rolled his eyes when Bucky knocked into his leg with his own, knowing that his best friend was just trying to be comforting. Even so, he couldn’t help the small nagging voice in the back of his mind saying that nothing was going to change on his birthday. He’d felt the subtle changes in his body, but he still felt like he was going to be different, that maybe he would be the one to break generation after generation of tradition. Even if his _body_ changed, he’d still be someone who was easily looked over, and easily ignored. “It just doesn't feel different yet, I guess.” 

“It will.” Bucky bumped his shoulder gently against Steve's, trying to encourage his friend, hoping to coax a smile from Steve if he could. He smirked when he was successful, when Steve turned to look at him with the ghost of a grin on his lips. He was all for supporting Steve dipping his toes in the dating pool, even if he felt a little stab of jealousy at doing so. 

While Steve had had two _real_ relationships, Bucky had only had superficial ones, nothing that had lasted or felt more than a passing attraction or convenience. None of them had seemed to give him what he needed; he couldn't put into words what he needed, not exactly, but he knew he hadn’t found it yet. No one had made his heart skip a beat or made the butterflies well in his stomach. 

_No one else, that is,_ Bucky thought to himself, ignoring the thought as soon as it appeared, just like he’d done so many times before.

Bucky knocked into Steve once more before climbing to his feet and returning to his bed. “You’ll need to beat back the all boys and girls with sticks, Rogers. Large, heavy sticks.”

**Darcy:** _Pizza and Arthur Miller’s Crucible?_  
 **Clint:** _Movie or play?_  
 **Darcy:** _Dealer’s choice._  
 **Clint:** _Will you make us have parts and do voices?_  
 **Darcy:** _Wasn’t planning on it…_  
 **Clint:** _Well that makes me sad_  
 **Sam:** _Forget Barton. He just likes to be an ass._  
 **Bucky:** _You’ll get used to it._  
 **Steve:** _What they’re trying to say it yes, pizza and The Crucible sounds good._  
 **Bucky:** _We’re in Lehigh Dorm. Room 107._  
 **Darcy:** _Tomorrow at 7 work?_  
 **Steve:** _Perfect._

**Bucky:** _Tuesday night? More movies?_  
 **Steve:** _It might have to be later. I have a thing for art_.  
 **Sam:** _I’ll see if I can make it work, but feel free to start without me_  
 **Clint:** _I’ve got Judo._  
 **Clint:** _But go ahead. I think I remember Darcy saying she’d be open_  
 **Clint:** _You don’t need us chaperoning you, do you?_  
 **Steve:** _You’re a dick_  
 **Clint:** _Love you too, bro_

Bucky smiled at Darcy as he pulled open the door, stepping aside so she could enter his and Steve’s dorm room. “You’re early.”

Darcy barely glanced up at him, passing him into the room, eyes cast down at her phone. “Mmmhmm,” she hummed as she dropped her bag on the floor.

Eyebrow raising as she trailed off, Bucky shut the door behind her and watched as she stood in the middle of the room, eyes on the screen in her hands. When she’d fallen silent for several seconds, fingers blazing fast enough that he expected to see smoke, Bucky cleared his throat. “Steve’s not back from class yet.”

“ _Oh_!” Darcy jumped, then smiled sheepishly at Bucky, cheeks tinting pink. “Damn, I’m sorry! I’m yelling at Jane and here I am, being just as oblivious as her.” She toed off her shoes and dropped onto Steve’s bed, folding her legs under herself. 

“Care to elaborate?” It looked like she was debating whether or not to tell him, and Bucky gave her an encouraging smile. “I know how to keep a secret. Trust me.”

Darcy took a deep breath, grinning softly, unable to stop herself when that charming smile of his was directed her way. “I know my best friend very well, and she likes to pretend she is oblivious to any type of male attention. In particular, a man I’ve come to refer to as Professor McHottie.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose. “Odinson?”

“Mmmhmm,” she said with a grin, holding up her phone as if it was evidence. “I swear. I need to get the girl a pin that says _’I’m oblivious, ask me how!’_ I could put it on her coat and she probably wouldn’t even notice it was there.”

“You think there’s something going on between them?”

Darcy sighed, giving him an exasperated shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Yes? She likes him, that much I know. However, my friend is nothing if not professional and she’s fighting her attraction tooth and claw.”

Bucky snorted at the way Darcy’s fingers curled into talons as she spoke. “Tooth and nail?”

“Tooth. Nail. Claw. The determination of a yeti. She’s using it all. And it’s _so frustrating_!” She slumped to her side on Steve’s bed, holding her head up as she stretched out. “Have you ever seen someone deny themselves something out of some kind of misplaced moral innocence?”

“Yeah. I know a few people like that,” Bucky said with a nod, ignoring the large yellow arrow covered in blinking lights he imagined was floating above his head. “Sometimes it’s hard to admit you want something because you don’t want to ruin it.” Darcy’s head cocked to the side as she looked at him and Bucky realized that might have come out sounding a bit bitter. 

There was in look in Bucky’s eyes that made Darcy wonder if she’d said the wrong thing. She sat up, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “Are you... okay with me being here? I can come back later?”

Bucky’s eyes widened.. “Huh? No, it’s fine. Unless you -”

“No, I’m good.”

They both laughed, and Bucky felt the brief moment of unease dissipate. She was grinning softly at him, letting the companionable quiet stretch on, and Bucky tore his eyes from her and nodded toward his laptop. “Wanna start a movie? We can stop it when Steve gets here.”

“Sure. Got one in mind?” As Bucky reached for his laptop and shook his head, Darcy climbed off Steve’s bed and joined Bucky on his. “Have you heard of _What We Do In The Shadows_?” At another shake of his head, Darcy grinned, grabbing a pillow to put behind her back as she sat beside him. “You are in for a treat then, Mr. Barnes.”

“What do I get if I hate it?” Bucky asked, looking over at her with a smirk.

“A new battery because you are obviously a robot,” she snarked, reaching up to pull the pen from her hair, her curls falling to her shoulders. “You’re going to love it. I promise.”

He laughed at her enthusiasm, navigating to the movie. As it started, Bucky settled against her, smiling when he noticed she was wearing a pair of socks that said “Darn It All To Heck” and were dotted with pictures of sewing needles and thread. “Alright, but I reserve the right to exact revenge for my high hopes.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and hit her shoulder against his. “Deal.”

“I don’t understand how you haven’t watched _Parks and Rec_. You guys. Do you actually _live_ under a rock? Are you on _rumspringa_?” Darcy asked, voice raised in not-so-mock shock. She grinned at the look Bucky shot her, throwing her hands up in pseudo defeat. “That’s it, no pretending to watch movies for class. Bring up your Netflix.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re bossy?” Bucky asked, reaching for his laptop, fingers flying over his keyboard as he pulled it up. He heard the soft sound of indignation from Darcy and looked over at her when a wide grin, enjoying the soft pink that had bloomed on her cheeks. 

“I think the correct term is assertive,” Steve said as he made room on his bed for Darcy to sit, patting the bed next to him. He immediately looked away from her, realizing what he’d just done. Mentally berating himself for how awkward he could be around her, he became deeply focused on the poster hanging above Bucky’s bed on the other side of the room

“Bossy may or may not have been one of the things people have called me in the past, James, yes.” Darcy climbed onto the bed, slotting herself against Steve’s side. She ran her hands over the soft blue comforter and ignored how warm he felt against her. “No Clint or Sam?”

Steve shook his head, scooting farther back to give her more space. “Something about a pizza challenge they’re gearing up for?”

“In other words,” Bucky said, putting his laptop on a chair and wheeling it in front of Steve’s bed so they could all see, “they’re eating pizza for the fifth time this week and know we’d have fought them on it if we were going, too.”

“Oh, I see. Well, their loss.” Darcy followed Steve, back against the wall, legs outstretched in front of her. She reached over Steve, plucking one of his pillows and hugging it to her chest. It was soft, and she caught the scent of his shampoo and what could only be described as ‘boy’ “You only get to experience this show for the first time once.”

Bucky scooted back onto the bed, putting Steve between him and Darcy, ignoring the fetching shade of pink tinting the blond’s cheek as he was bookended by them. “Isn’t that true for all things?”

“Don’t use your logic on me, Jamie.”

Hearing the nickname pulled Steve out of his embarrassment enough that he looked over at Darcy with a small smirk. “Jamie?”

She shrugged, her arm brushing along Steve’s as she did so. “Well, you call him Bucky. Sam and Clint call him Barnes. I can have my own thing. I mean, if that’s alright with you?” Darcy asked, leaning forward to look around Steve at the other man on the bed.

Bucky nodded, flashing her his most charming smile. “Yeah, sure, doll.”

Darcy’s smile grew when she saw the expression he was sending her way. “Doll?”

“Doll.”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Steve said, shaking his head as he smiled at the interplay between the two of them..

“Jamie, what do _you_ call Steve?”

“Most of the time I call him a punk. Because he’s a punk.”

Darcy laughed at the teasing glint in Bucky’s eyes, resting her chin on the pillow as she turned to the laptop as the show’s theme started playing. “I’ll have to think on a nickname for you, Steve. I’ll let you know what I’ve got one.”

“Sounds good,” he managed, doing his best to pay attention to the screen in front of him and _not_ on the warm bodies on either side of him.

The weekend always meant a party, either in a dorm or in one of the houses that ringed the campus; lights barely high enough for people to move around each other, shadows in corners and hiding faces, making everything hazy memories. It was the perfect environment to get lost in. Everything looked dark, everything looked different at night, especially with the moon hidden by clouds and branches as it so often was in Hartford.

Late summer sweetened the air, the lingering scents of blooming flowers slowly being covered by salt, sweat, spilled beer, and cloying perfume. The subtle smell of copper was easily masked, mixing with freshly cut grass and recently turned over dirt, until it was almost imperceptible. It was why he’d chosen this place, with its normal crush of bodies and people distracted on every side, to make his move. The first of many.

Loud, pounding music, creating rhythms for swaying bodies. 

Crickets and cicadas complaining about the heat.

The fog of alcohol making bad decisions worse.

No one would miss them. The quiet ones off to the side. The ones that were easily forgotten, somehow anonymous in the crowd, and easily overlooked. The streets were filled with possibilities, and he eyed all of them as they laughed and drank, before making his choice.

It would be simple, painless.

Well, painless for him.

In the tunnel of raucous music and laughter, no one would see them.

No one would hear their screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	3. Darkness Creeps In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This is the water. And this is the well. Drink full and descend. The horse is the white of the eyes and dark within._
> 
> As Steve’s birthday grows closer and closer, he shares the changes (good and bad) with his friends. 

Steve woke, gasping, and threw the sheets off his body. His shirt stuck at his neck and back, slick and almost soaked through with sweat. He pulled it over his head, flinging it to the floor at the end of his bed, the fabric hitting the tile with a wet _slap_. 

His chest felt like he was on the edge of an asthma attack, unable to catch his breath, but that wasn’t right; he hadn’t had an attack since his sixteenth birthday, when the Power had started to heal his lungs and every other bodily ailment he’d grown up with.

Steve looked to the other side of the room, squinting in the dark. Bucky was fast asleep, curled on his side and facing Steve. He was peaceful, the artful bow of his lips soft and beautiful. 

Good. The nightmare hadn't woken him. 

The closer it got to his birthday, the more vivid and _real_ Steve’s dreams felt. All he could remember from this one was blood. Dark, almost black blood, dripping down walls, splattering up to ceilings. Deep pools of it, seeping into sigils cut into stone floor, which glowed with a purple light as the cooling liquid filled the crevices.

A sound was building in his ear, making every hair on his body stand on end. There was a vibration in the air, like the whole world had taken a breath and was about to exhale in an explosion of sound. He could _feel_ the screams more than hear them, and when he looked down, a fresh, beating heart was pumping in his outstretched hands, impossibly warm and still glistening wet. 

“ _Steve! Steve! Wake up! Come on_!”

Steve’s eyes flew open, this time not inside of a dream, but in the darkened dorm room he shared with Bucky. He looked up at his friend’s worried face and swallowed several times before he was able to respond. His throat hurt like he’d gargled with sand and he grimaced at the uncomfortable feeling. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” Bucky said, the fear in his voice making the words sharper than he’d meant them to be. “You were screaming and I couldn’t wake you -” 

Bucky turned, staring at the door as someone pounded on it from the other side. He crossed the room and it a fraction. Their RA stared at him, dark eyes annoyed at having been woken up by screaming. “Everything alright in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Bucky lied easily, “just a spider. We got it.” He couldn’t tell if the other man believed him or not, but he shut the door on him regardless and crossed the room back to Steve’s side. “You’re soaked. Arms up.”

“I can take my own damned shirt off,“ Steve grumbled, the rest of his complaint muffled by said shirt. 

He was still too rattled by his dream to feel any self consciousness as he stripped the rest of the way, standing to dig in a drawer for new clothes. He felt a cool washcloth on the back of his neck, the feeling making him stop in the middle of the room. He’d been too distracted to notice Bucky had left to go to the bathroom. Was he missing time? _No_ , he thought. _Bucky didn’t leave the room_. Steve turned, seeing the flash of black and fire in Bucky’s eyes that signaled the use of his Power. “Buck -”

“What was it?” Bucky asked, ignoring the admonishment for using his powers that he knew was on the tip of Steve’s tongue. He hadn’t wanted to leave Steve’s side and it’d been such a little use that it hadn’t even crossed his mind _not_ to do it. “The nightmare. What’d you see?”

They’d all had nightmares the closer they’d gotten to Ascending. Portents and omens. Most of them had been benign, a way for their consciousness to accept The Power they were about to gain. Manifestations of their excitement and anxiety. Steve was close, just a few months out, but Bucky had never seen his best friend like this. It scared him, seeing Steve this rattled, and he frowned at the look in his friend’s eyes.

Steve shuddered, glad for the dark of the room, the only light cast by the the crack under the door to the hallway. Even though it wasn’t real, he could still see the drops of blood hanging in the air, could still feel the contracting muscles of the heart in his hand. It would be easier to just _show_ Bucky, since the words were stuck somewhere around Steve’s sternum and didn’t seem to be moving. Bucky was holding the washcloth to the back of Steve’s neck, so Steve covered that hand with his own, sharing the dream with him, eyes flashing with black and flame. 

“There's just so much blood and screaming. And you’re there, but you're not? It was fucking horrible,” he finally said, thumping down onto Bucky’s bed. Bucky sat beside him and Steve leaned against his best friend, taking in the very _real_ smell of the product he used in his hair, to the faint spice of his soap, all with the underlying smell of sleepy boy. Steve didn't know when that smell itself had become comforting, but it had. “We need to tell Sam and Clint in the morning,” Steve said, trying to shake away the fear of the dream, still sticking on his skin like spiderwebs.

“We will.” Steve’s dream was awful and Bucky couldn’t fault him for the screaming. He’d just been shown a _glimpse_ of it, but he swore he could smell and taste the copper of blood in their room. He expected to be hearing a third heartbeat, but he could only sense his own and Steve’s where it pressed against his arm. He looked over at Steve’s bed with a frown. “Let me get your mattress clean -”

“Buck, you already Used once today. I’ll just lay a towel down -”

Bucky shook his head. “No. Just... stay here. There’s plenty of room. And if we’re going to make it to the early morning class you made all four of us fit into our schedules, you’ll need to get some good sleep. We’ll never hear the end of it if _both_ of us are late.”

The dream had rattled Bucky enough that he didn’t like the idea of Steve sleeping alone. If sleeping in the same bed gave Steve comfort enough to find a little more rest before they needed to be up, he was happy to help. If he were being honest, the idea of taking comfort _from_ Steve sounded nice, too.

“What I _need_ are pants,” Steve said, going pink in the ears, glad that it couldn’t been seen in the dark of the room. _For fuck’s sake. I’m naked on Bucky's bed._

“Don’t go getting shy now, Rogers. Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Bucky rose and dug into his dresser. He flung a pair of bottoms with pirate ships on them at Steve, waited until Steve had pulled them on, then crawled into the small bed behind the slighter boy. 

They’d spent countless nights growing up curled around each other, falling asleep chest to back. At first just the two of them, then with Clint and Sam after fifth grade. Sleeping in the same bed was nothing new, though it’d been awhile. Definitely before Steve had realized his feelings for Bucky were… complicated. In any case, Steve was soothed by Bucky’s even, calm breathing as it fanned against his neck, and he let it lull him into a thankfully _dreamless_ sleep.

“Hi, I’m Deke, with the Campus Safe Walk Program? You called for someone?”

“Oh, thank goodness,” the young woman replied. “I just lost track of time, and didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I’m so glad someone is free this late. I didn’t wake you up, did I?” 

Deke shook his head. “Nope. This is my night on the rotation. I was up playing Mario Kart and ignoring my chem labs. Let’s get you back to your room.”

“Thanks. I’m Allie, by the way. I’m over in Smith.”

~*

***MISSING STUDENT ALERT***  
_Trinity College, in partnership with the Hartford Police Department, is asking for assistance in locating a missing Trinity student._

_Allison Lancaster, a freshman from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, was reported missing from Trinity on August 21, after 8 am. She was last seen on August 20 at 6:15 pm by her roommate at the Watkinson Library. She was wearing dark jeans and a green t-shirt, with a bright yellow book bag._

_Anyone with information on Lancaster’s whereabouts is asked to call the Hartford Law Enforcement Center at 507.555.6832._

“That’s messed up.” Clint let out a indignant noise of pain as Sam’s fist swung out and punched him in the arm, his best friend’s expression saying that bluntness had _not_ been the right choice. “What? It is!”

“What he _means_ to say is that we’ve all been there. None of our dreams were altogether pleasant.” Sam leaned forward, lowering his voice. “How much longer do you have? Eleven weeks? Three months? It’ll all be coming up now.”

Bucky shook his head. “It was more than that. I could _taste_ the blood. And it seemed close. I can’t really explain how, but it did.”

“But what are we supposed to do about it? Did you see any faces, recognize any locations?”

Steve shook his head. He’d gotten a few hours sleep after the dream, but when he’d woken up, Bucky wrapped around him protectively, he’d not been able to fall back asleep. He’d just savored the feeling of Bucky against his skin, taking advantage of the quiet moment, not wanting to break the momentary peace that had settled over him.

“I didn’t recognize anything. I heard screams. Mostly female. Lots of blood. It felt… near?” He looked up at Bucky, trying to share what they’d both seen, but realized quickly that neither of them could get across what it’d felt like. It was something only they’d be able to understand. “But it felt _real_.”

Sam nodded and sat back in his chair as students began pouring into the hall. “I guess we just wait and see if something happens. Or until you have another dream. We can’t do much else.”

“It wasn’t just a dream,” Bucky insisted, shaking his head.

“What wasn’t a dream?” Darcy asked as she slid into the desk next to Steve, sandwiching him between Bucky, with Clint and Sam at their backs. 

The boys had forgotten they weren’t in their own private bubble. All four of them jumped in surprise, Clint actually falling out of his chair. “Aww, chair. No,” he glared, taking Sam’s outstretched hand for help as he climbed to his feet.

“Weird dreams. You know, the ones that seem _too_ normal, almost like they’re true and you’re actually living them.” Bucky replied smoothly, smiling brightly at her. She was wearing a well-worn t-shirt from the local animal shelter, the neckline cut until it displayed the strap of the bright green tank underneath on her shoulders. 

Darcy’s lips turned up in response to That Grin which always seemed to grace Jamie’s lips. It was incredibly charming and she wondered if it was something he did on purpose, or if it happened organically. “I have a recurring dream like that. It includes Launchpad from Darkwing Duck. In my intro to psych course, the professor would call what you’re describing as _hallucinations_ ,” Darcy said, pulling out her notebook and digging into her backpack to find her pen.

“As long as I’m not hallucinating a world made of only shrimp,” Steve said, all too happy to throw his attention toward Darcy and away from the darkness of his dream. He reached out and plucked a pen from Darcy’s hair, trying not to tug on the one that was holding the mass of curls up. “Looking for this?”

Darcy turned and flashed Steve a took her pen with a grin. “Thanks. Jane makes fun of me for the number of pens I lose up there. She may have made references to me being her favorite travelling office supply store.” When Steve kept that lopsided grin focused at her, Darcy felt her cheeks heating softly, not wanting to look away as his eyes seemed to glint brighter the longer she stared.

Behind Steve and Darcy’s back, Sam lifted an eyebrow and looked at Clint. The pair shared a small smile before reaching into their bags in perfect unison, each pulling out a notebook. Normally, they wouldn’t have to take notes, as Steve had always been much better at it, but both of them wondered if he’d _actually_ be able to take notes while in the middle of Bucky and their new lady friend. The distraction level was too great, and they knew how easily Steve was thrown by pretty aesthetics - especially people.

“I’ve got extras,” Bucky said, leaning over Steve’s desk to smile at Darcy. “Just in case.”

Darcy jumped at Bucky’s voice, tearing her eyes away from Steve’s, the back of her neck heating when she realized how long she’d been looking at the blond. She turned her smile to Bucky, “my hero.”

They all looked up when Professor Odinson come through the door at the front of the auditorium, his hair out of its usual neat tail, Jane following closely behind looking flustered. Steve saw Darcy’s mouth drop in his peripheral vision, glancing in her direction when a strangled sound broke free from her throat. Her phone seemed to materialize in her hand and he got a bit dizzy watching her fingers blur on the screen.

**Jane:** _I’ll have you know I’m still crushed there are no more poptarts_  
 **Jane:** _Why are all the poptarts always gone?_  
 **Darcy:** _ok, so I’ll need to see you after class for an explanation, JANE FOSTER._

“Good morning, all. I hope you had a good weekend. Today we’ll cover chapters three and four, and the articles by Tyler,” he rumbled at the front of the room. Clearing his throat, Professor Odinson pushed his hair back and settled against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky reached across Steve’s desk to nudge Darcy, eyes glinting with questions. This was interesting, considering the conversation they’d had a few days prior, before Steve had gotten to the dorm. She looked back at him with eyes glinting in satisfaction. Bucky nodded his head toward Jane and the professor, one eyebrow going up in a questioning manner. When Darcy nodded knowingly, his face broke into a smirk.

Steve sighed from the middle of the pair. “Pay attention,” he hissed, “or I won’t share my notes.”

Darcy shot Bucky a impish grin before turning back to the front of the auditorium, reaching out to write “sorry” on the corner of Steve’s notes, laughing silently when he turned to her with a scandalized look on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vee: Darcy’s recurring dream about Launchpad McQuack is one I’ve had since I was in fifth grade. He was my second cartoon crush. My first? Casey Jones from TMNT.
> 
> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	4. Days Before You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _We’ve known each other forever, it’s hard to remember the days before you. I don’t even know if there were any._ ”
> 
> The group grows tighter as Steve grows taller. 

Bucky laughed at something Reed said, eyes crinkling at the corners. He’d let his Civil Engineering classmates talk him into going for a drink after class, glad for the distraction. Most of his time was spent around Steve, Clint and Sam, with Darcy now thrown into the mix more often than not. He loved spending time with them but it was nice to go out with new people, let them tell their stories and get lost in the crush of bodies and the taste of hops.

He glanced down at his watch, noting that Steve wouldn’t be back from his art class for another two hours. It wasn’t that he was _waiting_ for Steve, but the place was too quiet without him humming along to his earbuds, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Bucky’d gotten used to having Steve there with him and it felt wrong when he wasn’t.

He nodded when Ben asked if they wanted another round, pulled out of his inner thoughts, leaning onto the bar as he tried to shift his focus from Steve and to his classmates. Bucky’s eyes widened when a pretty blonde inserted herself between him and Ben, smiling with a hungry gleam in her eyes. “You didn’t tell me you’d be here tonight. Should I be jealous?”

Bucky blinked at her. “Um, no?”

“Good. Wouldn’t have to fight anyone else for your affections.”

Bucky’s face pulled into a confused expression, leaning back at bit to look at her. “And you are?”

The blonde laughed and it sounded fake, almost desperate. “That’s funny. Stop messing with me.”

Ben’s face appeared over her shoulder, giving Bucky a thumbs-up sign. Bucky considered playing along, but he wasn’t in the mood. “I’m sorry, I really don’t remember you. Do we have a class together?”

“Oh, shut up. That party last weekend? The hot tub? I still can’t find my top.”

“I… I really think you have me confused for someone else,” Bucky said, keeping his face neutral. Something about her seemed off and he didn’t want to cause a scene. “My name’s James Barnes. And you are?”

She looked like she was going to be angry, pink coloring high on her cheeks. But when she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward a bit, her face fell and then shifted into embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You’re right. I totally thought you were someone else! You look _so alike_ it’s scary.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been told I have that face,” Bucky said, the lie falling too easily from his lips. He watched her walk away, back to the table she’d been at with a few other girls.

Reed looked around Ben at Bucky, eyebrow raised. “You could have pretended,” he said, earning a nod from Ben. 

“Nah,” Bucky said, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m already on a date with you two. What kind of gentleman would I be if I abandoned you?”

“A smart one,” Ben grunted. Reed and Bucky laughed before returning to their conversation on the dynamics of runoff management in an urban setting.

Steve’s art class had ended early, some family emergency stealing their professor, and while several of his classmates stayed to bounce ideas for their semester projects off each other, he was just too tired to stay if he didn’t have to be there. He didn’t skip classes normally, having too much respect for his teachers, but he took this opportunity to go home, shower, and make it an early night.

It hadn’t surprised Steve to find their dorm room empty. On the nights Bucky went out, his best friend had always made sure Steve was good before disappearing. Sometimes, though less lately, Bucky’d return the next morning, hair a mess, clothes disheveled, marks on his body from someone else’s mouth.

The water was hot as it beat down on Steve’s skin. He’d always taken his showers close to scalding, getting yelled at regularly for using all the hot water before others could take their own. Steve tended to take his showers at night for that very reason. But in the shared bathrooms of the dorms, he could stand there for as long as he wanted, a steady stream of scorching water at his fingertips with no worry of it growing cold. The fact that not many others took showers at night also meant he was the only one in the bathroom. He was thankful for the semblance of privacy.

In the four days since his last nightmare, he’d been unable to shake the feeling of alarm. He didn’t know how or why, but he _knew_ these weren’t the run of the mill Pre-Ascension dreams that the others had experienced; Bucky had told him as much, and Clint and Sam hadn’t mentioned anything _close_ to the darkness he’d dreamt.

Steve finished rinsing the shampoo out of his hair before rubbing the conditioner through. Slick water flowed down his body, his fingers sliding over skin. Unbidden, the memory of that night - _after_ his nightmare - came roaring back. Bucky had rubbed the cold washcloth against his neck, hadn’t batted an eye at Steve naked and bare before him. He hadn’t hesitated when he’d suggested Steve share his bed. Wrapped in the circle of Bucky’s arms, Steve had felt safe, despite the darkness that had dominated his mind minutes before.

Bucky had been all long, silvey lines in the dark, the shadows playing with his sharp jaw the the elegant line of his shoulders. Steve couldn’t ignore the thoughts of pressing his mouth along the line of Bucky’s collar bones, his own teeth marking the golden skin. 

His hand, covered in slippery conditioner, wrapped around his cock, squeezing as he reached the base before repeating its motion up and down.

Bucky’s grey-blue eyes filled his mind, his best friend’s pouting lower lip urging his hands on. Steve’s breathing grew ragged as he stroked, remembering the weight of Bucky at his back and the warmth pressed against his ass. His hand was firm, thumb running over the slit, knowing exactly how to work his body. The sound of slapping water on the tiled floor masked the small noises of want that fell from Steve’s lips as he imagined how Bucky felt pressed against him, pushing into him, bent over and gasping.

He came, fast and hard, biting on his lip to keep from calling Bucky’s name. The water washed everything down the drain, leaving Steve leaning against the wall, water beating down on him, feeling sated but _nowhere near_ satisfied.

It was later than he’d wanted to get back when Bucky quietly pushed open the door to Steve’s and his room. He was greeted by the sound of Steve’s light snoring and the lamp on his own desk turned down low. He repressed a snort at the sprawl of skinny limbs and fluffy hair that was barely peeking out underneath Steve’s blankets.

Bucky stripped down to his briefs where he stood, then crawled under his own blankets, falling asleep easily between the few beers he’d had with his friends and the steady sound of Steve breathing.

Steve was moving above him, sunny blond hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at Bucky. The early morning light was grey, the air around them still and quiet, except for the sheets rustling, gentle sighs, and moans that filled the room. Toned muscles moved under rosy skin, and Bucky was mesmerized by the smooth line of Steve's collar bones gliding into his shoulders. The skin there was already mottled with love bites and would plainly show anyone who saw them that Steve was _his_.

Bucky curled his fingers into the sharp jut of Steve's hips, following the slow roll back and forth. Steve's long fingers dug into Bucky's chest, catching in the dark hair there, tugging as he was used for leverage. Steve caught his own lips in his teeth, holding back the sounds of pure pleasure that wanted to escape. Bucky couldn't get deep enough into Steve, but could spend all his time getting lost in those deep blue eyes framed with dark lashes, hearing his voice go even huskier with their hands on each other. 

“Steve. _Steve, please_ ,” Bucky whispered, wanting to feel Steve move faster as he chased his orgasm, wanted to feel Steve hot and hard against his stomach, dripping come and sweat. 

Steve leaned over, biting Bucky's lip, then soothing it with his tongue. “Make me,” he replied against Bucky’s lips, smirking. 

Bucky woke, rutting into his bed, coming with Steve's name on his lips. After he’d come down enough to realize what had happened, wide eyes swung over toward the other bed in the room. Steve was fast asleep, sprawled with his arm flung over his head and the sheets pooling near his waist, his face turned away from Bucky. He hadn’t been woken by Bucky’s muffled moan, and Bucky’s eye widened as he continued to stare at the bared skin of his best friend.

Oh. Oh, _shit_.

Bucky leaned into Darcy’s shoulder. “So?”

“Yeah. Totally. It happened.” Darcy and Bucky had picked up where they’d left off during their last class, heads down conspiratorially as they whispered. “She tried to act like it hadn’t. _Again_. But she’s a horrible liar.”

Clint reached out to ruffle Bucky’s hair, knowing his friend hated it. “How two people can have such tension and deny it is lost on me.”

Sam, who’d been taking a drink, choked back laughter at Clint’s comment, coughing when it sent him into fits. Clint threw him a smirk as he realized his target had caught what he’d intended, slapping Sam heavily on the back.

Steve shook his head as his pencil moved over the paper, trying in vain to capture the scene before him. The four men and Darcy were piled in the common area at the bottom of Nicholas J. Fury Dorm, having taken over the TV and DVD player to watch _The Craft_. They were studying the different portrayals of witches in modern movies to chart the change of perspective and understanding. Most of the group had seen it before, so notes were sporadic, if taken at all.

The graphite from his pencil wasn’t his favorite art medium, but he was making do. While most of the features for Clint and Sam were rougher, Steve had spent his time on Bucky’s form. He’d carefully traced the soft upper line of Bucky’s lip, the bit of stubble along his best friend’s jawline, the dark lashes that kissed against cheeks when he blinked. 

He noticed that he’d put almost the same amount of effort into Darcy: on her ridiculous beanie with a huge pom pom on top, her glasses, her slightly gapped front teeth. Her hands, though, were kept a blur as an afterthought, not quite able to catch the effusive movements. She had freckles from being out in the sun the day before, volunteering at the local animal shelters adoption event. Steve found himself wondering if he could -

He was jostled out of his thoughts by Bucky’s foot nudging his.

“Earth to Rogers,” Bucky teased, “how are we supposed to get anything written if you’re just doodling and not taking inspiring notes?”

Closing the notebook so Bucky couldn’t see what he’d been drawing, Steve noticed that everyone gathered had turned to look at him. He could feel the slight heat rush to his cheeks. “We don’t really need notes on this, do we? I mean, we’ve all seen it and it looks like Darcy has most of it memorized anyway.”

“ _Oh_ yeah. A movie about mid-nineties goth-lite girls who get the power to rebuild and shape the universe at their whim? Yeah. This is my wheelhouse. If you looked back at my sixth grade pictures, you’d see heavy black choker necklaces and unfortunately dark lipstick.”

Clint grabbed a discarded soda can and took aim towards the garbage can. It hit the inside of the rim with a ringing sound. “Well if we’re not going to do any studying, can we do something _else_? I need to be up and moving. Doing something.” 

Seemingly spurred on by Clint’s words, Sam jumped to his feet. “I agree. It’s too nice outside to stay locked up in here. What about you, Darcy love?”

Smiling, Darcy threw her pencil in her open backpack and rose to her knees. “What did you gentlemen have in mind? We _do_ have class tomorrow morning, which severely limits our available activities, but I’m always up for an adventure.” She saw a small frown turn Steve’s lips downward. His dedication to his studies was a definite turn-on, but today she just wanted to have fun with them, sans the need for studying. She crossed the floor toward him and Bucky.

She couldn’t help noticing the dichotomy between the two of them. Steve was less broad, less defined, but still handsome. His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue that tended to darken when he was annoyed or tired, and his glasses framed them nicely. His blond hair softened him even more, making him approachable. She found her gaze drawn to him almost constantly, enough that she was beginning to worry it’d become pretty damn obvious.

Bucky, on the other hand, was all dark hair and gray eyes, his lips turning into a knowing smirk far too often. It was like he was in on a joke that nobody else knew, amusement coloring his features more often than not. He laughed more than Steve did, but when Steve _did_ laugh, it was hard not to do so as well. She held out a hand to each of them, a questioning expression on her face. “Boys?”

Bucky glanced over at Steve, raising an eyebrow. “What do you say? Beg off this once?”

Steve sighed, feeling the weight of all four gazes on him. He threw his hands up. “Fine, yes, let’s play outside.” He rolled his eyes when everyone cheered, letting Bucky and Darcy pull him to his feet.

All the brochures and realtor flyers said the old house had ‘character’. Huge living spaces carved out of tiny rooms, walls that moved, electricity and water updated to modern standards. Windows let in natural light, filtered through leaves on old trees, with wood floors and soft materials covering the furniture. It looked like the perfect place for a family.

Tucked in the corner - past the stone arches, the finished stone walls, and warmed floors - there was a wooden door with heavy iron hinges. Crossed femurs were etched into the heavy lock at the handle. The numeric keypad situated into the wall looked incongruous next to the ancient architecture of the door.

Steep, curling stairs led under the basement, dirt walls with bits of roots poking out transitioned into the rocky foundation that made up the earth of Hartford. Glass covered lanterns flared to life, the flames casting clearer light than should have been possible. The short hallway at the bottom of the stairs opened into a cavernous space.

Eyes slid over the bookshelves filled with lore and power, moving past the cupboards warded against casual inquisition, stopping on the vials of blood and pots of viscera collected in an apothecary cabinet. A smile lifted the features of the handsome face, turning it cruel.

He heard the shuffle of cloth behind him. Turning, he saw their newest member, standing slightly to the right, waiting.

“What?” he grunted, light eyes flashing dark at the interruption. 

The younger man squinted in the dark, peering closely at his face. “You look just like, I could swear -” he shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“Mmmm,” he murmured in reply. He gestured to the room off through another set of archways. “After you. We’ve some studying to do.”

Steve had stayed in the park, sketching the others as they played frisbee, but claimed the need to do actual work and went back to his room early. Bucky had asked if he’d wanted company back in the dorm, but Steve waved him off. Darcy had been bright eyed and laughing, and Bucky had looked, well, like he just belonged, like _they_ belonged.

He couldn’t get the feeling of curling up with Bucky out of his head or off of his skin. He’d woken in the middle on the night earlier in the week to find himself wrapped around a reading Bucky. Bucky had just shrugged and said that Steve had been dreaming again, and had settled when Bucky had crawled into the bed with him.

When Steve had tried to extract himself, Bucky had pushed back the smallest bit, insisting that Steve was no bother and he’d been up anyways.

Steve’s sheets still smelled like Bucky’s soap. He turned his head into his pillow, took a deep breath, and groaned. He hoped no one had noticed him staring at Bucky _or_ Darcy, hoping they brushed it off as him drawing, as Bucky had for years. If anyone looked in his sketch books, they’d see pages of warm-ups, doodles in class, the line of Bucky’s jaw, the curls of Darcy’s hair, the interest and _want_ unmistakeable in the lines.

His drawings had always featured Bucky, his best friend; dark features and blue-grey eyes, how the bow in his upper lip dove deep, crinkle lines around his eyes when he laughed. 

Drawing Darcy was new, but with how often they saw her now, she was bound to end up spilling from his pencil onto paper at some point. She was different from the rest of the boys, all soft lines and skin, freckles and hazel eyes that lit from within when she was explaining something. 

He’d drawn the subtle nuances of Bucky forever, his pencil always finding the right etch, the perfect curve, the exact contour. It was like breathing, like air. But the feeling of Darcy was… a contrast. He was experiencing her for the first time. When he drew her it felt… different. His heart pumped in his chest, beating out the steady rhythm. _Bucky. Bucky. Bucky_. But now, there was an echo, a new harmony, one he didn’t truly understand.

If anyone saw the things he drew, some straight out of his dreams, he'd be embarrassed. Not because of the art itself, but because his drawings acknowledged things he wasn't ready to accept himself just yet.

Steve stood staring, wearing nothing but socks and boxers, one hand absently scratching his bicep. His skin itched _everywhere_. It felt like stray hairs or spider webs were constantly brushing against odd parts at him, in no discernable pattern or placement. It was driving him insane.

One of the shirts he’d thrown onto his bed had fallen to join the pile on the floor. Clothes littered his side of the dorm room. Usually disorder didn’t suit him, but with all the changes happening lately, he felt out of sorts.

“Are you starting a new trend, or were we robbed?” Bucky asked from the doorway, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed and a grin dancing on his face. Hopefully teasing Steve would keep him from noticing the way Bucky’s ears had gone a bit warm at the sight of him in barely any clothing.

“Nothing fits, Buck.”

Bucky pushed off the wall, being careful not to step in the piles of cloth. “I know. We all felt it.” He took a long look at Steve, enjoying the small thrill that he was now being allowed to do it under the guise of helping. Steve had been just at his chin at the beginning of the semester, now he was just under his nose.“You already look like you’re taller. Maybe an inch or two. It’ll start coming faster now.”

He could tell that Steve wasn’t completely comforted by that thought. Bucky reached out a hand, clasping Steve’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb along his best friend’s clavicle. “It’s not going to change who you are. You’re still going to be same punk you’ve always been. Maybe just a few inseam sizes longer,” he joked lightly. He’d always thought Steve was a bit too morose, and Bucky hoped the Ascension would make Steve feel more at home in his own skin.

It _did_ help Steve feel better that the other guys had all felt the same as him within the last year. Sam was the oldest, but he’d always been the most cool headed of all of them, and Clint and Bucky went through the changes almost at the same time, so they’d all been busy trying to support them. Steve had been stuck for months, watching them adjust after their Ascensions, and worried that his own would never come.

Now he was wondering why the frilly hell he’d ever thought that. 

“Can I borrow some clothes, at least until I can go shopping?” Steve asked. He needed to get to class, and couldn’t seem to find _anything_ that would fit. “I really don’t want to be in a four hour studio class with my ass chafing.”

Bucky laughed, not trusting himself to speak right then. Visions of Steve’s ass swam through his head as he pulled a t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts from his dresser and held them out to the smaller man, although from the ways things were going, he wouldn’t be smaller for that much longer. “Maybe we’ll only need one dresser, depending on what size you end up.” He watched Steve pull the clothes on then sit on his bed to tie his shoes. “We’re still on for dinner, yeah?”

Steve nodded, stretching his arms until he felt his back pop. _Christ, that hurt. Bathsheba, and all the fucking saints, and it’s just **starting**._ When his gaze swung toward Bucky, looking at him with an unreadable expression in his grey eyes, Steve felt the first flutter in his stomach, felt when his pulse began to race under Bucky’s scrutiny.

“I already texted Darcy. She said Jane might come if she’s not caught up in ‘work’.” Steve said quickly, needing to get out of the room and away from the thoughts Bucky’s gaze was bringing to the surface. He grabbed his bag by the door, tossing a quick apologetic look back in Bucky’s direction as he all but ran from the room.. “I’ll clean this up later, yeah?”

Steve managed to make it all the way outside before he stopped, leaning against a tree, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in. He could still feel Bucky’s eyes on him, could smell the detergent Bucky used mingled with the woodsy scent that always reminded him of the other man. Getting through class today was going to be hell. 

Back in their room, Bucky made a motion with his hand, eyes going black and flame. The clothes went back into the dresser, on shelves, and into the closet. He straightened up the rest of the room by hand, happy to have the distraction. Walking in on Steve in his state of undress had brought on the hunger pains, the ones he’d been trying to ignore for years but that had gotten exponentially stronger since they’d come to Trinity.

He loved living with Steve and couldn’t imagine doing so with anyone else, but lately it’d become hard for him to ignore the feelings welling within him. He feared eventually he’d slip, let the urge guide him, and he’d break something between him and his best friend. The thought chilled him. He needed a distraction. Changing into sweatpants and a tank, he decided to go for a run. Hopefully the physical exertion would be enough to quiet the thoughts in his head

Everyone was in the back corner of the dining hall, in what had quickly become their usual spot. It was Thursday night dinner with the latest episode of whatever shitty show they were catching up on. What had always been a group of four - Bucky, Sam, Clint, and Steve - had now expanded to include Darcy and, sometimes, her friend Jane.

“Dude, no, all I was trying to do was get to the coffee. I thought she was going to kill me with her eyes,” Clint was saying. “I think I might be in love.”

“Were you drinking right out of the carafe, again?” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. 

Darcy paused the fry on its way to her mouth. “W-what?”

“I swear, we’ve _tried_ housebreaking him,” Steve said to Darcy with a crooked grin, nodding in Clint’s direction. “Remedial classes and everything. It just won’t take.”

“Maybe a shock collar,” Jane suggested distractedly from the other side of Sam.

“Hmm. Kinky.”

Grinning at Jane’s idea and how distracted she was - texting someone, and Darcy would put money on _who_ \- Darcy put her chin in her hand, leaning on the table as she smiled in Steve’s direction. “Which lovely lady has sadly become the target of Barton’s affections?”

“The redhead in our class. Natalia?”

“I thought it was Natasha,” Sam said.

“Whatever it is, when we get married I’ll gladly take her last name. It just feels right.”

Laughing, Darcy reached out and put a hand on Bucky’s arm, nodding her head in Jane’s direction. The two of them had made it their mission to see this TA Jane and Professor McHottie Odinson thing through to the end. She’d laughed out loud in the middle of several classes due to his colorful texts on the subject.

Bucky was still laughing at Clint, but looked down at his arm where Darcy’s fingers pressed against his skin. Gaze flicking from her hand - _so warm_ \- to her face, he followed her line of sight, suppressing a snort when he saw Jane almost leap out of her seat as her text notification sounded. 

Darcy snickered behind her hand when Steve leaned to prop his chin on Jane, reading over her shoulder as her fingers flew over the screen. “You alright there, Jane?” he asked, his voice all innocence.

Jane swatted at him with her hand, quickly locking her screen, hiding whatever novel she’d been writing. “Eat an entire bag of dicks, Rogers.”

Everyone erupted in laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	5. Didn’t Know I Was Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I have something I need to get off my chest.”_  
>  _“What’s that?”_  
>  _“This.” He closed his mouth over hers.”_  
>  ― **Kelly Moran, Give Up the Ghost**
> 
> Steve and Bucky finally admit their feelings for each other and act on the urges they’ve denied for so long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see a music note, there is a link to a song in the end notes that was listened to heavily and influenced the scene! :D

**Steve:** _so the fall Epsilon house party is this saturday. Who’s in?_  
 **Clint:** _these hops do not lie_  
 **Clint:** _hits*_  
 **Clint:** _hips_  
 **Bucky:** _I’ll only go if Sam goes, so my dancing looks better in comparison_  
 **Sam:** _I don’t know what you’re talking about, Barnes. I would murder you on the dance floor_  
 **Darcy:** _I think this gets solved with a dance off, right Clint? Steve?_  
 **Clint:** _I concur with your assessment, Ms. Lewis._  
 **Sam:** _Oh, it’s so on._  
 **Steve:** _is bloodshed really the answer here?_  
 **Steve:** _what does the winner get? Are there rules?_  
 **Bucky:** _don’t ruin this with your nerd, rogers_  
 **Jane:** _I’m in, but only if i get to be judge._  
 **Jane:** _is there a rubric? I need data people_  
 **Darcy:** _We’ll be grading on a bell curve, obviously._  
 **Clint:** _Totes_  
 **Sam:** _ENOUGH WITH THE ‘TOTES’, BARTON._  
 **Sam:** _Winner gets to dress the other for a week. Head to toe._  
 **Bucky:** _Challenge Accepted_  
 **Darcy:** _I think the real winner of this contest will be the world, regardless of outcome_  
 **Steve:** _What have I done_  
 **Darcy:** _i regret nothing_

Sam had sent a snapchat of Clint doing his hair in the common bathroom, cackling when a towel was thrown in his direction. As soon as they were ready, Steve and Bucky would meet them outside the dorms so the four of them could walk to the frat party together. Darcy had texted earlier, saying she and Jane would meet them on the way to the Epsilon house, since Darcy was taking the chance for some extra hours at work, and she’d probably have to drag Jane away from her research to get the TA to come at all.

Steve was looking forward to the party. He’d been feeling all kinds of out of sorts, and needed to just _do_ something, even if that something was out of the norm for him. He wasn’t any kind of real or particularly graceful dancer, but he usually managed to find someone to dance with when they went out. He tugged on the bottom of his new henley, already worried about it being too tight. Had it been this tight when he‘d bought it? He didn’t think he’d shrunk it in the washer. He tugged it off, rolling his shoulders, and grabbed a random shirt off of Bucky’s pile. They seemed to fit better than anything he had; the fact that they smelled like Bucky had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Grabbing his wallet and keys, Steve turned to Bucky. He raked his eyes over the other man as Bucky messed with his hair in the mirror. He took in the black jeans hugging Bucky’s thighs and hips, the vee neck t-shirt that was just the slightest hint of see-through. Bucky must have used some mascara or eyeliner. He did that sometimes, when he was in the mood and they were going out. It made the blue-grey of his eyes shine brighter somehow.

Steve cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from the other man. “You just about ready?” His voice was _almost_ normal, which was an accomplishment in and of itself, considering how just _looking_ at Bucky made his heart race. 

Glancing once more in the mirror, Bucky turned back to Steve with a nod. “Yeah.” He stopped, snapping his fingers. “Damn! I almost forgot!” Crossing over to his dresser, Bucky pulled a small box out from top the drawer, then shoved it in his pocket. 

“What was that?” Steve asked, a single blond eyebrow raising.

Bucky waved his hand in the air, already moving toward the door. “Just something for Darce. Inside joke.” 

As he passed Steve in the small doorway, he couldn’t help how his body rubbed against Steve’s side. An electric thrill ran up and down Bucky’s skin, enough that he actually ran his fingers over his jeans to make the tingling go away. “Let’s go get Sam and Clint. If they make us wait I swear I’ll murder Barton.”

“Well, he wants to look beautiful for his death scene,” Steve replied as they made their way down the stairs, thinking of the woman Clint’d started chasing after,. “Has he told you anything else about her? You know, like if they’ve actually _talked_ , or where to find his body once she kills him?” 

Their shoulders brushed as they exited the dorm, pushing into the early fall night, feeling just a hint of a chill in the air. Steve shivered, not wanting to admit to himself that it was from more than just the change in temperature.

The other boys were waiting for them, Clint taking a last drag on his cigarette before making it and the smoke disappear with a flick of his fingers.

Sam glared at Clint then turned his attention to Steve and Bucky. “Y’all ready to get your moves on?” He gave a suggestive roll of his hips, smiling when Clint laughed. “I mean, I’ll make sure to leave you _some_ ladies and gents.” He leaned over to press his fist against Bucky’s in greeting. “You actually going to make a move on Darcy tonight, stud?” he asked, throwing a friendly arm over Steve’s shoulders.

“What?” Steve sputtered, shooting the other man a surprised and flustered look, blue eyes darkening with embarrassment. _Is it really that obvious_? “There’s nothing… I… Damn it, Sam.”

Clint laughed at the tone in Steve’s voice, sharing a knowing look with Sam. Their friends could be _so_ oblivious sometime, so Clint and Sam had learned when to push and when to pull. This was definitely a time to _push_.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re going to a party. You don’t really know someone until you dance with them,” Bucky said, unable to ignore the small tendril of something - _Hurt? Jealousy?_ \- at Sam’s words. That emotion was replaced with hope seconds later. The fact that Steve was showing an interest in _anyone_ was an improvement. He deserved to be happy, and Darcy was great. She’d fit herself into their group so seamlessly in such a short amount of time. It’d be good for Steve. It’d be good.

Tearing his eyes from Steve’s face, thankful that no one would notice the flush to his cheeks in the cold evening light, Bucky rubbed his hands together. “Okay, boys. Let’s do this.”

Walking quickly down the sidewalk, Darcy crossed her arms to guard against the cold, the heels on her feet completely impractical for the season, but Jane had assured her they made her calves look _amazing_ , and it was a small price to pay in the name of fashion. “Jane! Watch out!”

Darcy managed to catch Jane’s arm before she walked straight into a light post that lined the path from the quad. “Oh!” Jane said in alarm, reaching out to steady herself with Darcy’s help. “I’m sorry! I’ve just been dis -”

“Distracted by the tall, blond, and hunky man you work with on a daily basis in small confines and want to climb like a tree and bang like a screen door in a tornado? Yeah. I know.”

Jane threw Darcy a look before she wrapped the other woman’s arm in her own, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk and her attention off her phone. “I don’t know why you’re being so pushy about it.”

“Pushy? I’m offended, Jane.”

“Wounded, even?”

“Hurt, Jane.” Darcy laughed. When Jane looked at her an explanation, Darcy rolled her eyes. “It’s just… he’s been the only thing that’s made you smile lately. And I like you smiling. You should do it all the time. You deserve all the happy smiles and butterflies.” Jane looked at her with a friendly grin, squeezing her arm gently.

Darcy looked up when she heard Jane’s soft gasp, then followed her line of sight, her own breathing becoming a bit heavier because of the picture the four gentlemen walking toward them made.

“They _are_ pretty, aren’t they?” Jane mused, seeing the four boys not far from them, laughing at something Steve had said, pushing and comfortable as only those who live in each other's pockets can be. She rose an eyebrow, noticing the broadness that seemed to have morphed Steve’s shoulders. “Whatever Steve’s been putting in his Wheaties is really working for him. Is he _taller_?”

Darcy was too busy imagining being the creamy filling in a SteveandJamie sandwich to consider Jane’s question. 

When she’d approached Steve that first day in class, all eyes and focus and glasses that framed his face, he’d taken her total attention. Steve was quiet but honed, the blue of his eyes so jarring that Darcy’d had to work up the nerve to talk to him at all. With Steve had come the three other men: Sam with his older brother attitude, Clint with his sarcasm and quips, and then Jamie with That Smile that could warm her from head to toe. The more time she spent with both Steve and Jamie, the more she found herself thinking about them. She liked all four of them, of course, thrilled for the new friends she’d made just by picking the cute guy actually doing work… but Steve and Jamie, with their beautiful light and dark complimenting each other? The little flip her stomach made when she saw them together signaled that she was in doomed. 

“Who invited you losers?” Darcy called out to them, squaring her shoulders and flipping her hair dramatically, trying to brush off the heat that has filled her body at the sight of them. 

“Milady!” Clint replied, taking a grand bow as the girls approached. “How you wound me with your words.”

“I thought you _liked_ it rough, Barton,” Jane said. 

Their laughter hung in the chilled air.

The six of them converged into one group, following the slowly growing sound of rock and dance music. They made it through the open front door of the Epsilon frat house. Clint immediately peeled off to go upstairs and the five that were left saw him approaching Natasha, the slight woman from their history class. Her hair was almost copper in the low light, curls piled on the top of her head, jeans slung low on her hips. She put her hand on Clint’s shoulder when he leaned down to speak in her ear. However, she _didn’t_ fling him over the railing, which was promising.

 _Godspeed_ , Steve sent to Clint. 

“Drinks? Yes? Drinks.” Sam didn’t wait for anyone to answer his query before he bounded toward the back of the house where the kegs could be found. 

The house was crowded, a crush of people filling every room. Avoiding elbows was impossible, but the four left standing made their way to a small gap in the gathered students. The interior was decorated like every other shared Greek house on a college campus; posters of Starry Night and Albert Einstein covered the walls, and haphazardly hung Christmas lights sent a rainbow of colors around the room.

The music was loud, something with a thumping beat but lyrics that were too drowned out to recognize. Darcy leaned closer to Bucky, having to place her lips on his ear to be heard over the din. “Do you know anyone here besides us?”

Bucky had felt the warm fan of her breath on the shell of his ear, turning toward her to catch the words she had to yell to be heard. The scent of her shampoo, something floral with a hint of citrus, filled his lungs as he responded.

“A few people from class, but no one in particular,” he yelled back.

“It seems Steve knows a few people,” Darcy said, pointing to where the blond had been pulled onto the floor to join the other students that were dancing. She’d been a little surprised that _Steve_ was the one who’d invited everyone out. He was quieter than the rest of the boys, but no less snarky. Just more serious, more reserved.

Bucky turned his gaze to find Steve trying to get out of the dancing, but eventually the blond relented, finally allowing the girl to move his arms with a half-hearted look of defeat on his face. Leaning back into Darcy’s space, Bucky wrapped an arm around her waist as someone tried to push past them toward the door. “I think he knows her from one of his art classes.”

Ignoring how good his arm around her felt, Darcy nodded, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder. “I asked him to show me some of his stuff, but he hasn’t. Is he good?”

“He’s amazing,” Bucky answered, a bright grin curling his lips as he thought about Steve’s art. “He just hides it very well. He almost always has smudges of charcoal on his fingers. On his cheeks, too. It’s adorable.”

Darcy hummed in acknowledgement as she grabbed the beer Sam held out to her and Bucky. She took a drink as her eyes followed the movements of people around her, enjoying the press of bodies and music thumping behind her sternum, grinning when Sam moved so she was sandwiched between him and Bucky. “Thanks!“

“Don’t mention it Darce, just save me a dance for later.”

She nodded her head, taking another sip, eyes smiling over the rim of the red solo cup. “You got it.”

Another set of arms wrapped around Steve from behind. He jumped, then grinned when fingers pinched his sides. He turned away from the girl who’d drug him out onto the floor, not even bothering to hide his relief from the person who’d saved him.

“Wanda! You made it!” he yelled at her, pulling her hands above her head to spin her, then pulling her closer as the next song began to pump through the speakers. She smelled the tiniest bit like solder and cinnamon, and he wasn’t sure if she’d come from her studio hours or her kitchen. She was always bringing cookies and breads into their longer art classes and it had endeared Wanda to Steve their first year of school together.

They moved together, grinning, bodies bumping when Steve tripped on his own feet and tangled with hers. Steve laughed as Wanda elbowed someone when they got too close and stepped on her. Her accented shout of ‘ _Hey_!’ brought a grin to his lips, knowing how formidable Wanda could be when she wanted.

When the song finished, he found a hole in the throng of people and moved to the side of the room. He pulled Wanda along behind him, hoping to save the next unsuspecting victim from the deceivingly slight woman, heading away from the floor and toward where his friends were nursing their beers.

“Guys, this is Wanda. Wanda, this is Bucky, Darcy, and - “

“Sam WIlson,” Sam said, jumping forward to take her hand. His eyes had gone wide and a smile flashed across his face when he had seen Steve dancing with her. The smile returned in full force as he moved closer. “Wanna dance?”

Bucky had opened his mouth to greet Steve’s friend but didn’t have the chance before Sam took Wanda’s hand and, without waiting for more than a nod as an answer, pulled her back into the throng of bodies. His friend really needed to learn how to be patient and give enough time for people to answer the questions he asked.

“She’s pretty,” Darcy said, smiling when she saw Sam begin to move with the smaller woman, her face sporting an impressed expression as she watched Sam dance.

“She’s that pretty and you give her to Sam? What’s wrong with you?” Bucky asked, fist reaching out to punch Steve in the arm. As his knuckles hit his friend’s bicep, he realized for the first time he could actually _feel_ the difference in Steve’s body. The already firm muscles were… _more_ , the shirt he’d borrowed stretching over larger arms.

“I didn’t _give_ her to anyone, Buck. Wanda’s a friend, not cattle,” Steve said. He swiped Bucky’s beer, taking a few swigs before handing it back to him. He would not think about how Bucky’s mouth had already been on the glass, about how he would probably taste like hops with a slight hint of orange. “Where’s Jane?”

“I have no idea,” Darcy answered with a frown, hazel eyes scanning the crowd for her friend. “She must have gone to the bathroom or something…”

“That’s fine! I have this to give you anyway, and it’s good she’s not here,” Bucky yelled, pulling the small box from his pocket. Getting close enough for her to hear him without having to shout, he opened the top of the box and showed her what was inside. The squeal that came from Darcy was easily heard over the music. She jumped up and down before throwing her arms around Bucky’s shoulders unexpectedly, and Bucky laughed as he hugged her back.

Steve had turned to make sure Sam was being a gentleman with Wanda, but shifted his attention to Bucky and Darcy when she’d squeaked. The feeling of someone punching him the stomach was almost too real, too visceral. He didn’t know what Bucky had done, or what Darcy had said, but the vision of Bucky’s arms wrapped around a clearly happy Darcy stole the air from his lungs. 

They made a pretty picture, all dark hair and pretty, plump lips. Their eyes were both bright, faces just a breath apart. They were talking back and forth animatedly, hands gesturing, full of life and excitement. Suddenly feeling out of place, with the rest of his friends seemingly paired off, and ashamed that it was affecting him as much as it was, Steve turned back toward the crowd, needing to put space between them and himself.

While Darcy was busy texting Jane - _where the hell did you go?!_ \- Bucky looked around, a slight thrill of alarm when he didn’t see Steve where he’d been a moment before. Eyebrows knitting together, he finally spotted the head of blond hair weaving through people who were seated or standing on the stairs that lead to the second floor.

“I’ll be… I’ve got to…”

Darcy waved Bucky off, surprised when someone she knew from work came up and pulled her attention. “Go, I’ll be here.”

Steve made his way to a quieter part of the upper floor. He saw Clint on a chair on the second floor landing, Natasha sitting in his lap, their heads close as they spoke. Clint’s hand was resting softly on her lower back, thumb moving over the fabric there. Natasha’s fingers were splayed on Clint’s bicep, and Steve had to keep moving. He needed to find a place where he could take one full breath and try to clear his head.

Steve ran his hands through his hair, mussing the already sweaty strands. A spot was open near a window in the back corner of a room, some frat brother’s bedroom that was now open to the public. He made his way there, pressing his palms and forehead against the cool glass, trying to suck in the cooler air

 _God_ , Darcy had been just gorgeous downstairs, with her swirling dress and dark lips. Steve could picture her moving with Bucky to the music, which had changed to something deeper, more primal. Their bodies pressed against each other, the bass from the speakers echoing the placed their skin brushed... He couldn’t get the picture of the pair of them out of his head. 

He didn’t have a right to be jealous, of hurt, or whatever other emotion was making it hard for him to breathe. Darcy had been nothing but amazing since they’d met her, and despite Bucky’s insistence on the subject, Steve’d known it was only a matter of time before she realized one of the others would be a better match. Even so, it stung, thinking of her arms wrapped around Bucky, the grin on Bucky’s face as they whispered back and forth, shared mirth he already wasn’t included in. 

Bucky managed to make his way up the stairs and through the crowd. He noted a surprisingly _alive_ Clint, Natasha sat comfortably on his lap, and he had to go deeper into the hall full of bedrooms before he finally found Steve, next to a window, his cheeks flushed and pink. His brain paused at such an attractive sight, but Bucky’s worry of why his friend had needed to get away from the crowd in the first place took priority. 

“Are you alright?” Bucky asked, noting the sweat on Steve’s brow. “Is something wrong? What happened?”

Steve spun at the sound of Bucky’s voice, his eyes widening in surprise. “What’re...what? Why aren’t you downstairs? Dancing? With Darcy? She... and you...” Steve couldn’t make a whole sentence come out, couldn’t seem to get the words to form a complete thought. Since when had it gotten this hard to talk to Bucky, his best friend? Had _that_ much really changed? “You should be dancing with her, not chasing after me, jerk.”

Blinking in confusion, Bucky tried to decipher what Steve was saying, knowing how his best friend could struggle when he was flustered. “Dancing? I’m not… I mean, Darcy is beautiful and amazing, but… that’s not… you and I... “ Bucky struggled with his own words, trying to explain the flurry of emotions and thoughts racing through his mind. “I don’t…” 

He didn’t like the look on Steve’s face, a mask of disappointment and resignation. What had just happened? He felt like there was a pressure in the air, like a balloon was about to burst. Bucky had done his best to ignore or bury the feelings he had when he looked at his best friend, but it appeared like that was no longer a possibility, not when Steve was looking so lost and broken. Bucky’s tongue flicked out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

“I’ve always been chasing after you, punk.” 

Steve shook his head and bit his lip, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Nothing was making sense. Bucky had _always_ made sure that Steve was alright before heading off, only to come home smelling like sweat and sex, and someone else’s perfume or cologne on his skin. If that’s what he wanted with Darcy, why was this different? “I.. what?” 

He couldn’t really see Bucky’s face, the light coming from the hallway behind him casting his face in shadow with a halo of light formed around his head, but Bucky was close enough that Steve could feel the heat of his body. Bucky was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen; he didn’t need the light to know the curve of his brow, the dip in the top of his lips, or the way his cheek bones cut. Bucky’s face was as familiar as his own. “What’re you saying, Bucky?”

Fear gripped Bucky’s stomach, a million reasons screaming in his head that this was a bad idea. What he said and did in the next few seconds could bring everything raining down on him and break something that he desperately needed. But looking at Steve, the same eyes he’d found himself staring into for years, he couldn’t think of anything else he wanted more. 

Steve was his foundation, the concrete keeping his feet on the ground, the wind that lifted his head to the sun. He didn’t know who he was if he didn’t have this man at his side. Steve was his. He was Steve’s. That was the simplest truth in the entirely of his world. Damning himself, but throwing up a prayer to anyone that would listen, Bucky grabbed the back of Steve’s neck and crashed his mouth against his best friend’s.

Steve froze, brain shorting out at the feel of Bucky’s lips against his own. One hand went to Bucky’s hip to tug him closer, the other clenching in the soft cotton of Bucky’s shirt. He felt Bucky’s hand move to fist in the short hairs at the nape of his neck as Steve chased Bucky’s mouth with his own. His lips were soft and slightly chapped, and Steve could taste the beer that they’d both been drinking, and underneath that, the taste of what had to be _Bucky_. His body was firm planes, and a soft dip before the curve of his ass, and Steve wanted to memorize every inch of it. 

Steve pulled back just the slightest bit, hand going to Bucky’s jaw, thumb ghosting over skin. 

“Bucky, _Buck_ ,” he whispered against Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky’s heart was beating impossibly fast, the blood in his veins echoing in his ears. He could hear the _thumpthump thumpthump_ as he stared down at Steve with hooded eyes. There was a flush to his cheeks and Bucky could tell he had the same blush coloring his own. He knew that the house was still full of people and noise, but other than the words Steve had whispered and the feeling of their bodies pressed together, Bucky wasn’t conscious of anything else.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to breathe out. He saw Steve starting to move away at his words, watched the blond’s face start to crumble, but he kept his grip on the back of Steve’s neck, giving him nowhere to go. “Not for that. Never. That was… _Steve_ … I’m just sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”

Focusing on bringing air in and out of his lungs for a bit, almost tasting the clean and fresh scent of the soap Steve used, Bucky closed the distance and pressed his lips again, this time less like a starved man coming up for water - though it did feel like that, _exactly_ that - and more timid, in case his world was about to be destroyed and he’d never be able to experience this moment again.

Steve felt his stomach drop when Bucky apologized, confused and on the way to broken, when he realized that Bucky's lips were on his again, and Steve could pull Bucky flush against himself. Steve's back hit the wall and he moaned just the smallest bit into Bucky's mouth. 

This was happening. Really happening. This wasn't a dream or getting lost in his head. He was kissing Bucky, _they_ were _kissing_ , and Steve couldn't focus beyond that. He tipped his head, his tongue darting out to lick at the seam of Bucky's lips. “Don't stop. Please, _please_ don't stop.“

Steve’s words were the permission he’d been looking for, and Bucky let himself do what he’d always been too afraid to do. Pressing the entire line of his body against Steve’s, Bucky’s mouth poured over every inch of skin he could. Lips. Cheeks. Jawline. Clavicle. All the places he’d always wanted to touch but convinced himself were forbidden now held his sole and utter attention. The entirety of his world had narrowed down to the man before him and everything else faded into white noise. 

_Steve_ ,” Bucky growled before recapturing his lips. There were so many things flashing through Bucky’s mind, things he wanted to do, to try, to allow himself after all this time. A small nagging part of his consciousness reminded him that they were in a house surrounded by other people and this wasn’t the place to tear Steve’s clothes from his body and figure out _exactly how well_ their bodies fit each others, but it was a much quieter voice than the one that was repeating Steve’s name, over and over..

Tearing his mouth away, Bucky found himself unable to actually back away from Steve, instead resting his forehead against the other man’s. He was still breathing heavily, almost dizzy with the heady weight of what had finally turned from dreams into reality. “Is... is this ok?”

Steve blinked slowly, hands coming down to rest on the sharp planes of Bucky's hips. There was a look in Bucky’s eyes, a soft hesitation, an emotion that Steve hadn’t seen in his best friend’s eyes with any of his other dating partners. It made Steve’s stomach clench, knowing this was _different_. Knowing it was _more_. “Asshole. _Is this ok_?” Steve snorted. “You started it.”

He was still laughing as he rolled his hips against Bucky's, straining against the zipper of his borrowed pants so hard that the friction was not quite enough. His pulse, which was beating faster and heavier than he’d thought possible, was singularly focused in his groin, feeling each and every pump. “What do you think?” 

He knew they needed to talk, needed to figure out what was going on, what this _meant_ , but not right now. _Right now_ , all Steve wanted was to feel Bucky’s body against his. He didn’t want this to end. For all he knew, this could be the only time this happened, something to be blamed on the beer and the warm press of bodies lowering inhibitions. There was the possibility that this was unreal, or that Bucky could come to his senses and realize this wasn’t what he truly wanted. Whatever _this_ was, Steve wanted to savor it while he could.

Steve wasn’t the only one who felt the discomfort of constricting pants. Bucky was there, hard and ready against the waistband of the jeans. He’d worn skinny jeans. Why on Gaia’s green earth had he chosen skinny jeans? The sounds of the party surrounding them, outside of the lust-hazed bubble they’d been in for the past ten minutes, began to slowly filter back to Bucky’s ears. He shot a casual glance over his shoulder, eyes taking in the room. There were still people nearby, but they appeared lost in their own thoughts and conversations. It seemed no one had noticed the monumental shifting of the world that had just transpired.

Turning back to Steve, Bucky took a deep breath in as he closed his eyes. They couldn’t do anything about their current situation where they were. It was very tempting to Use, to get them out of the house and back to their dorm as quickly as possible, but they’d come here with friends. There would be questions if they just disappeared. Right?

“Do we go? Stay? Find a closet?” Bucky laughed slightly at his own questions. He’d not felt this love drunk since… well, he’d _never_ felt anything like this. But _nobody_ else he’d been with could cause the butterflies that Steve could. It was like he was a teenager again, fumbling over words with red staining his cheeks.

“Moving. That involves moving, and stopping the touching and the - “ Steve broke off to nip at Bucky's lower lip. His pupils were blown wide, and every sense he had was on overdrive. “Maybe go? Back to the room? We can talk there?” Steve hoped they would do _much more_ than just talk, but he was good with just this, too, for now, and told Bucky as much. 

Bucky nodded for a good fifteen seconds before he took another deep breath - _how does Steve smell this good?_ \- and experimentally took a step back. The loss of heat as their bodies came apart was stark. Yes. They needed to leave. And go elsewhere. So they could continue this. 

“Talk. Yeah. We might be able to do that.” He grinned, somehow knowing that the smile on his face was goofy and ridiculous. The thrill of looking at Steve though, no longer having to hide the hunger he felt for the other man, turned darker as his eyes landed on Steve’s lips. His mouth was red where the slight stubble on Bucky’s chin had rubbed. He felt a wave of satisfaction, knowing that he’d been the one to make the mark.

He held out his hand to Steve, lacing their fingers together as they made their way out of the room. A thrill shot up through Steve's skin at their touch, and he kept sneaking looks at Bucky under his lashes at they left the party, and their friends, and made their way back across campus. 

It had been too long since they’d left the party, since the last time he’d felt the weight of Bucky’s body pressed against his, and Steve had to push Bucky against a tree near the quad, running his mouth along the stretch of Bucky's neck. He sucked under Bucky's left ear, grinning against the warm skin there. 

“Sorry, not sorry. “

“Mmmmm,” was all Bucky could hum as a response. Full sentences were impossible, as was the thought of asking Steve to stop anything he was currently doing. He knew he should worry about how two people, pressed against a tree at night, hands fumbling against each other, would look to strangers, but he just couldn’t. Not when Steve’s tongue was doing _That Thing_ against Bucky’s skin and he could feel Steve, hot, hard, and ready pressed against him.

It felt like it took forever to get back to their room, taking several stops along the way to pepper kisses with teeth and tongues against each other when it became unbearable to go any further without some sort of body contact. Bucky, despite not realizing it fully, had been waiting for _years_ to do this, _to be this_ , with Steve.

It felt fast, but his relationship with Steve was so old, so deep, that it felt like they’d already been together for years. Jumping straight into this, into being physical after all these years… it would have been too fast with anyone else. For this, for him and Steve? It was time. All he wanted was this man’s body against his own. Now.

Floundering in his attempts to get the key in the lock to their room, Bucky finally had to tear his face away, a frustrated growl passing his lips when it was taking much too long to get inside and finish what they’d started at the party.

Steve followed as Bucky pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him with his foot. “I know, I know we need to talk, but I'm going to fucking die if I can't touch you. Can I touch you? Is that alright?” Steve's hand played with the hem of Bucky's shirt, fingers rubbing against the skin right above the line of his jeans. 

“Fuck. Yes.”

Steve grabbed the hem of the t-shirt and Bucky helped him pull it up and over his head, tossing it somewhere in the low lit room. It became a race to see who could get the most clothes off the quickest. Shoes were toed off, buttons loosened, and in a very short amount of time, the two of them were in their underwear - Bucky’s boxer briefs a slate grey, Steve’s boxers a deep blue - and their skin came together wherever it could. 

_Hot_ was a word Bucky would have used to describe it, but it didn’t come close to accurately explaining it. Steve’s skin felt like flames, and everywhere Bucky touched made him want more. Bucky pushed them backward toward his bed, stumbling as they fell back onto it, his body poised above Steve’s. 

Bucky was all long lines and firm limbs, the light dusting of dark hair tickling against Steve's chest. Everything burned where they touched, actual bits of power sparking where their hands were still joined. Steve laughed lightly, running his fingers down Bucky's back while slotting his thigh between Bucky’s. 

“You're amazing, have I ever told you that?” Steve whispered against Bucky's skin, nipping between each word. 

Alternating between kissing and being kissed, Bucky hummed his approval of everything, biting his lip when Steve’s head dipped down to lick the long column of his throat. Bucky’s hands moved down Steve’s body, fingers caressing his ribs before grabbing his ass and grinding, which earned him a hiss.

“How did I ever stop myself from doing this before?” Bucky asked, tongue wetting his lips as he pushed a bit of hair away from Steve’s forehead. “Years. Have you… All this time, too?”

Steve closed his eyes, biting his lip and trying to think. He couldn't keep his hips from stuttering up into Bucky, finding any friction he could. He felt like he could do this forever. “Yeah, Buck,” Steve opened his eyes to search his face, seeing how Bucky was looking down at him. Like he was … everything. “I think probably always. But why would you look twice at me?”

Bucky’s eyes took on a defensive look. “Hey. Don’t do that. You’re amazing. Too good for me. For anyone.” He closed the distance and pressed a soft, earnest kiss to Steve’s lips. “I was afraid it would change things. You’re my best friend, punk. Can’t go on without you. Wouldn’t want to.”

His hands couldn’t seem to get enough of Steve, running over and over his skin as if this were going to fade, ending with him waking up in the middle of the night, skin slick with sweat, hard against his sheets, as he looked over at Steve in his own bed, sleeping and oblivious to the storm of want swelling inside of Bucky.

Steve felt himself flush even further, the blush on his cheeks spreading down his neck and onto his chest. How was this real? “You’re my best friend. Always have been. Don't plan on changing that,” he said, his breath coming in short gasps as Bucky ground against him. “I'm - you’re - _fuck_.”

Bucky’s new goal had just become making Steve gasp and moan and hiss. Every sound seemed to cement this new reality a little bit more. 

“You’re mine,” Bucky growled against Steve’s neck, hands reaching between their bodies to grab Steve through his boxers, squeezing along the full, hard length of him. The sharp intake of breath was a small reward for catching Steve off guard. He pulled Steve’s lower lip between his teeth, biting softly before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. Bucky's mouth followed the line of Steve's jaw, down the side of his neck until it met his shoulder. He worried it with teeth and tongue, bruising Steve. He wanted something tangible, marking Steve so they would both know this was happening. 

Steve couldn't concentrate between Bucky's hands and mouth and the sinful way he was rolling his dick against Steve’s. He ran his nails down Bucky’s back, hissing Bucky's name. “You're gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he groaned, “don't you dare fucking stop.”

The tone in Steve’s voice made Bucky’s pulse race faster, spurred on at the encouragement. He reached under Steve’s boxers and wrapped his hand around warm skin, his hips moving in rhythm. Both of their breathing was labored, the sighs and moans filling the darkness of their room. Bucky writhed against Steve, his hand directing until their cocks rubbed against each other, until their hips were moving in tandem, both chasing the friction and their release.

“Will you? Come for me,” Bucky hissed, the comment almost bordering on a command. “Steve, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen. I want to watch your face as you fall apart.”

The eyes above him were grey and so full of everything that Steve felt dizzy, like a feather, like he was floating. Bucky was looking at him and it felt like the entire world was holding its breath, waiting, poised on the edge, preparing for release. Steve watched as Bucky bit at his lower lip, eyes imploring. He said ‘come for me’ one more time and Steve lost it.

 _Oh, shit, fuck_ , Bucky’s hand and his mouth, and his goddamned words had Steve exploding into Bucky’s hand, muscles tensing and everything coming to focus on Bucky’s face above his. 

Steve’s face was everything Bucky had imagined and so much more. The look of complete abandon on Steve’s face had Bucky on the precipice, and it just took a whisper of his name from Steve’s lips for him to follow behind, crashing, hips thrusting against Steve’s who cried out with every push. He collapsed on top of the smaller man, breathing heavy, eyes closed. Satiated. Satisfied. Content.

“Damn, Rogers. Damn.”

“Back at you,” Steve huffed. He opened his eyes trying to focus on Bucky’s face when he started laughing. Cutting off Bucky's look of befuddlement, Steve nodded down, where the two of them were floating six inches above the bed. “We’re not stiff as a board anymore, but we're certainly light as a feather.”

The look on Bucky’s face was nothing short of stupefied. It took him a few seconds to tear through the haze of gratification to understand what Steve had meant, but when it finally clicked, he let out a loud groan as they dropped the few inches to the bed and he rolled onto his side beside Steve. “Really? Of all the things to say, you chose a veiled illusion to a mid-nineties movie about a bunch of wannabe witches? Shame.”

“Dude, we were literally floating above the bed. It seemed appropriate at the time “ Steve replied, flicking a finger and using a hit of power to clean them both off. Their eyes met, both of them wearing the same dazed look. Steve laced their fingers together, and grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this scene, the song [“Heart” by Sleeping At Last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiDI4B18t3Y) was playing on repeat  
> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	6. Don’t Feel No Remorse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post frat party, Darcy makes a decision, while Steve and Bucky find out Sam and Clint have suspected things for quite some time.

The black masked men were scattered throughout the darkened room, the only light source a smattering of dripping candles. No one spoke, but a level of excited tension was palpable in the space. The expressionless faces turned when a large iron door opened with a protesting scrape of metal on stone.

Walking into the middle of the room, the dark-haired man’s boots whispered over the well-worn stone. He looked from body to body, counting more than twenty. They’d grown by three since the previous week. 

“Brothers,” the man greeted, raising his arms to his sides before crossing them over his chest. The men gathered repeated the motion. He’d hated the gesture at first, but adapting their traditions had become necessary in order to keep them contained. No one liked change, but the temptation of power could make men of habit agree to almost anything. 

“I am happy to announce that the first harvest was a success.” Applause echoed throughout the room. When it died down, he spoke again. “While the first step of a journey is the hardest, we must stay vigilant. The ceremony is important but the procurement is critical. Everyone has their assignments. For us to possess the future, to bend it to our will, sacrifices will be needed. Which one of you is willing to bleed for the rite?”

His lips turned upward in a dark smirk as every hand in the room lifted in unison, each of them volunteering for the next step in the ritual. The masks were there to maintain a level of anonymity, but his sight allowed him to see each and every one of them. He walked around the room, pantomiming a hard choice. When he found the man he wanted, he stopped in front of them. He placed his right hand on the man’s shoulder, clasping the other forearm with his left. “Are you prepared to surrender your life for the rite?”

“Yes,” came the voice, the tiniest thread of fear buried under ego and bravado. 

Without a word or second of warning, the silver glint of a knife was pushed forward, finding purchase in the stomach of the masked man. The guttural groan of pain gurgled from the man’s mouth, a stream of blood seeping out from the beneath the black mask.

“Your service will not have been in vain,” was whispered against the injured man’s ear. Taking a step back, the masked-man fell to his knees, hands trying to stop the bleeding from the large wound in his abdomen. The group watched as he was pushed backward with a boot to the chest. He fell limply to the ground, no longer moving.

The only person without a mask held his arms out in a show of pride, knife still red and wet in his hand. It was almost too easy.

“Great power is only granted to great men, and ‘great’ describes each and every one one of you gathered in this room. It’s up to you to steal this power for yourselves, to take what is rightfully yours. Society and morality tell you to ignore your base desires, the animal nature that was built into you over millennia of evolution. Who is ready to take what is theirs?”

The masked men began cheering, the cacophony almost deafening in the small stone chamber. As they began turning to each other in conversation, the fallen man’s blood seeped into the symbol on the floor, an almost imperceptible flash of deep purple shining as the sigil was filled with the sacrifice. Turning his back on the masks, he climbed the stairs slowly, the sounds below fading as he exited the house. 

It wouldn’t be long now.

Jane wrapped her hands around her mug, glancing up as people streamed by the front window of the coffee shop. She checked the clock on her phone, sighing as she took another sip of her tea. After years of experience, Jane knew better than to assume Darcy would be on time, and she’d planned accordingly and had plenty of work to keep herself occupied until her best friend arrived.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry. I know. I’m sorry.” Darcy collapsed into the seat across from Jane with an exasperated groan, dropping her bag by her feet. “I forgot my wallet at home so I had to run back and that made me miss the Cambus so I had to hoof it and these boots were _not_ made for hoofing.”

“It’s fine,” Jane said with a small smile, seeing the frazzled look on her friend’s face, “I wasn’t waiting long.”

“Liar,” Darcy said with a guilty grin as she began to pull her notes out of her bag. “I’m twenty minutes late and you’re always a half-hour early. I hate wasting your time.”

Jane leaned forward, placing her hand on Darcy’s arm, a soft but worried look on her face. She knew her friend could be high strung, but this was a little more than she was used to. “Darce. It’s fine.”

Blowing a piece of her hair that slid across her face out of the way, Darcy shook her head, hand gesturing in the air. “I’ve just been off my game lately. I’m not sure why. There’s just been… things.”

Pushing her notepad out of the way, Jane frowned at her best friend, her assignments forgotten. “What do you mean?” Her question was answered with another errant wave of Darcy’s hand. “Are you feeling okay? Did something happen last night? Is it work?”

“Work is fine. Work is work. I go, I get paid. It’s what work is supposed to be.” Darcy couldn’t help the small grin as Jane looked at her with obvious concern. She was an only child, but ever since she’d met Jane, she knew what it was like to have an older sister. A very worried, pushy, and adorable older sister.

“Classes?” 

One of Darcy’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “They’re fine. It’s interesting. There are a few things I didn’t think I’d like that are actually really fun.” At Jane’s prodding look, Darcy let out a sigh and buried her face in her crossed arms on the table. “MMmma looennen.”

“Huh?”

“I’m lonely!” Darcy managed, saying it loud enough that several people turned to look at her. She felt the blush of embarrassment flood her cheeks, and she lowered her voice, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “You’re off with Professor McHottie, which is amazing and it makes me so happy for you. I mean, I hate you a little bit too, but mostly happy. 95% happy. Maybe 67%.”

“That was a huge jump. What about Steve?” Jane looked at Darcy, eyebrows drawing down. 

Darcy shook her head. “All I know is that at the party everyone paired off and I was left alone. I had a discussion with a man who was too old to even go to school here. You know what we talked about, Jane? Koala bears. Did you know that almost every Koala bear has chlamydia, Jane? Because they do, Jane. Rampant. Koala. Chlamydia.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Jane said with a frown. It was a good bit of trivia, but she couldn’t even imagine how that conversation started, let alone how it’d formed the basis of their whole communication.

“Neither did I. But I talked with him, and drank my beer, and then went home and played solitaire on my phone until I fell asleep. Then my phone dropped on my face and woke me up. I’m living my best life here, Jane.”

“That’s a bit overdramatic.”

“It is. And so am I. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Darcy wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince herself or Jane. She had never felt the _need_ to be in a relationship to be happy, feeling perfectly content focusing on school and her jobs, finding fulfillment in the small, wet noses at the shelter, but lately she’d been feeling like she was _missing_ something. Had it started after her attraction to Steve, and then her slowly building crush on Bucky, too? Yes. Did it mean that she was willing to give up their friendship simply because her stomach flipped at the sight of them? No. She’d just have to pull her big girl panties on and deal with her silly crushes.

One dark eyebrow of Jane’s lifted, her eyes disbelieving. “I'm sorry for ditching you, Darcy, really. I ran into someone from my department who keeps fucking with my lab. Simmons and I needed to have Words.” Jane paused, expression going thoughtful as her fingers drummed against the side of her mug. “What about that guy from the book store? Ward something? He keeps coming in to ‘buy books’”Jane actually made the quotation marks in the air with her fingers, “but always ends up talking to you and never actually _buys_ anything.”

“That's true. He _did_ ask me out for not-dining-hall coffee,” Darcy replied, remembering how he’d grabbed a post-it note and passed her his info, smiling up at her so charmingly. “He's cute, with that jaw and that hair, and from what I could tell, seemed reasonably intelligent.”

Darcy looked down when her text notification went off, somehow _knowing_ who it’d be.

**Steve:** _today's terrible film is up to you. Same time/place this pm?_  
 **Bucky:** _please, not anything with Winona. I know we have to read the crucible. That's bad enough._

Darcy sighed, looking down at her phone with a frown. She pushed it away, before pulling it back just as suddenly. Her fingers were quick as she typed.

**Darcy (to Book Guy w/ stubble):** _Hi there. This is Darcy. We met in the stacks and you put your number on a nerdy sticky note. Did you want to get coffee sometime?_

“There,” she said, looking up at Jane with a defiant look. “To hell with being forward. For Ward.” She laughed a bit too loudly before she put her chin in her hand. “God I shouldn’t have caffeine. Ever.”

***MISSING STUDENT ALERT***  
 _Trinity College, in partnership with the Hartford Police Department, is asking for assistance in locating a missing Trinity student._

_Abigail Seevers, a freshman from Buffalo, New York, was reported missing from Trinity on September 3, after 10pm. Seevers was last seen on September 1 at 1:15am via video walking home from a party on Griffiths Street. She was alone and wearing a white jacket, blue t-shirt, and khaki pants._

_Anyone with information on Seevers’ whereabouts is asked to call the Hartford Law Enforcement Center at 507.555.6832._

“Well, well, well, _someone_ had a good time last night,” Sam called from across the diner. He waved a hand at Steve and Bucky as they made their way over to their usual table.

Clint peered at Bucky and grinned, immediately noticing the purple hickeys on the other man’s neck. “Wow, that's quite a mark you're sporting there. Get in a fight with a Dyson?” He pushed back in his chair, balancing on just two legs. 

Bucky’s eyes flashed black for a second and suddenly Clint was falling backward. He managed to catch himself on the table, but a large number of heads turned their way, a few people laughing at the loud noise. 

“Unfair!” Clint said, picking his chair back up. “Cheater.”

Sliding into the chair next to Sam, Bucky threw a glare Clint’s way before turning to Sam. “Keep him in check, Wilson.”

“I’ve been trying to do that for years and it hasn’t stuck yet. You think that’ll change?” The snort from Sam was heartfelt, as was the smile he leveled at his friends.

“You and Natasha looked pretty cozy last I saw you. It looks like you have all of your limbs,” Steve commented, looking at Clint, grinning when he glared at Steve.

“I am a gentleman knight, ever entranced by my lady fair. Of course I have all of my limbs,” Clint said defensively. “We had a nice conversation, we’re building our home in the south of France, and our kids are gonna be amazing. You’ve just got to give me more time to get in there, to work on her a little more. I'll grow on her. Like a chia pet.”

“If anything, it looked like she was working _you_ , friend.”

“She is a goddess, and I am truly unworthy.” Clint nodded to Steve, moving the conversation away from himself and back at the two new arrivals. “Do you take turns using your room or did you go back to _his_ place, Rogers? Did you have different socks on the knob?”

“Socks? What is this, the 1980s?” Bucky asked, reaching out to steal a chip from Sam’s plate.

“ _I_ want to know how Sam hit it off with Wanda,” Steve said with a small grin. He’d hoped that the two of them would be interested in each other and from what he remembered on the dance floor, they’d both looked like they’d enjoyed themselves. He’d have to ask Wanda during their next class together, to get the story from her side.

“As if there was any question?” Sam said, his voice holding a bit of offense. “We had a great time. She brought me my drink, dazzled me with her intense imitation of Anderson Cooper, and said she'd see me around. Wouldn't let me walk her back to her room, but emailed me to let me know she’d gotten home safely.” Sam was a gentleman, despite being an inveterate flirt, and his Nana would never make him her famous biscuits if he ever treated a lady or gentleman friend with anything less than respect. 

“But no changing the subject,” Sam pushed back at Steve, “I saw Darcy with some guy, and Clint with his Russian tsarina, but didn't catch you guys leaving. Meet any pretty ladies or handsome gents?”

Ignoring Sam’s question for the time being, Bucky frowned at Sam’s words. “Darcy was with some guy? Did she get home okay? I texted her this morning but she didn’t respond.”

“She’s fine,” Sam assured Bucky, smiling softly at the worry that had colored Bucky’s speech, “I saw her with Jane earlier. They had books out so she’s probably just in her study bubble.”

Bucky nodded for a second, glad that she’d gotten home safely. He and Steve hadn't meant to ditch her, but there had been Things. Taking a deep breath, Bucky looked over at Steve with a smirk. “You going to answer Clint’s question, punk? Who _was_ it you went home with last night?” 

_Ugh. Uuuugh. This is the absolute best. And worst._ Steve thought, grinning to himself.

Steve had _almost_ been successful in convincing Bucky to skip Sunday morning brunch and instead curl up around each other in bed for the whole day. Bucky still looked all sleep rumpled, his hair even wilder than usual, and the low vee of his shirt showed the marks Steve had left last night and this morning. Now that they could touch, Steve was almost vibrating with the need to crawl all over Bucky. 

“Just some guy, you guys may have met him before,” Steve finally said, taking a sip from his water. 

“What?”

“Who?” Sam and Clint exclaimed at the same time. 

_You’re such a trolling shit_ , Bucky thought at Steve, unable to keep his expression from brightening with amusement.

“What, you want us to guess? Um… That guy Peter from your art class?” Sam, in true Wilson fashion, didn’t let Steve answer before words vomited from him. “That girl... What’s her name? Oh! Betsy? The one that’s always wearing purple?”

“Your RA. The janitor. Oh! That guy who lives down the hall and has that really ridiculous haircut?”

Clint’s guesses were just never quite as good. 

“You guys are both ridiculous,” Bucky said with a shake of his head. 

Steve laughed before leaning over and pressing his lips gently against Bucky's. He could feel Bucky's hand lifting to rest on his shoulder, and Steve had to stop himself from pressing for more. 

“It’s about _damn time_ ,” came from Sam, while a large _**‘whoop!’**_ was heard from Clint’s direction.

Bucky hadn’t been sure how Steve wanted to play it, but he was glad that there wouldn’t be any hiding; the four boys had never been good keeping things from each other, but Bucky was beginning to understand Clint and Sam might have known the feelings he had for Steve, even before he’d known and acknowledged it himself.

Grinning, a slight warmth in his cheeks due to the feeling of Steve at his side, Bucky turned back to see Clint stand, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet and produced a fifty-dollar bill, heaving a large, dramatic sigh before he handed it to Sam. “I was _so close_.”

“Close, but not close enough, my friend.”

“What?” Bucky asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion as he looked back and forth between the pair of them. 

“I bet you two would make it to winter break,” Clint said with a wistful sigh, “Sam said before. Damn.”

“I’m telling you, when it comes to matters of of the heart, don’t challenge me. You’ll go down, every time,” Sam chastised, sticking the money in the pocket of his jacket before patting it with a satisfied smile.

“You guys are _fucking_ ridiculous,” Steve said happily, threading his fingers with Bucky’s and feeling that thrill travel up and down his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	7. What You Make Others See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I Wanna Hold Your Hand.’ First single. Fucking brilliant. Perhaps the most fucking brilliant song ever written. Because they nailed it. That’s what everyone wants. Not 24-7 hot wet sex. Not a marriage that lasts a hundred years. Not a Porsche or a blow job or a million-dollar crib. No. They wanna hold your hand. They have a feeling that they can’t hide._ ” ― **Rachel Cohn, Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist**
> 
> Steve enlists the group for help with his art project, and he and Bucky take advantage of an empty studio.

  
  
  
  
  
**Steve:** _hey. Guys. Can we do something different for dinner tomorrow?_  
**Steve:** _I need to start working on my final project._  
**Steve:** _I promise non-weird take out and not pizza if you’ll let me draw you like a French girl_  
**Sam:** _.…_  
**Steve:** _clothes! Clothes!_  
**Clint:** _In that case, I’m out_  
**Bucky:** _‘Good’ take out? There’s bad take out?_  
**Sam:** _I’m studying for my Loss & Trauma class_  
**Steve:** _Clint?_  
**Clint:** _I’ll be stalking Natasha_  
**Darcy:** _You realize that’s super creepy, right?_  
**Clint:** _It’s part of my charm._  
**Darcy:** _Yeah. That’s not how it works. I’ll try to make it_  
**Steve:** _pout. It's just for an hour. You just have to lie there_  
**Steve:** _bring Natasha. The more the more_  
**Darcy:** _“you just have to lie there” the name of Clint Barton’s sex-tape_  
**Bucky:** _Maybe if you bring her we’ll be able to help you close_  
**Clint:** _I’m playing the long game, guys. 60% of the time it works all the time._  
**Jane:** _I can confirm that your math does not work out_  
**Steve:** _so that's 6? At 730? I can get studio space then_  
**Clint:** _If you ruin this for me, Rogers…_  
**Sam:** _Have you looked in a mirror? If anyone’s going to ruin it, it’s your face_  
**Clint:** _How dare you. I am a national treasure_  
**Darcy:** _You do kind of remind me of NIcholas Cage_  
**Clint:** _[Picture of Nicholas Cage Meme with the words "You Don't Say?"]_

Steve’s camera stand was set up, ready for when he could starting taking reference shots of the group. He didn't need everyone to actually _pose_ for hours, he just wanted to play with geometry and shapes, curves versus angles, darkness versus light. He was pretty sure the piece was going to end up some kind of mural. He was glad that the professor had limited them to one media, or he’d get scattered and try to cram more in than was necessary. As of now, he was going to stick with charcoals.

Maybe.

Probably.

He cast a look around the clean studio space. Everything was ready. Steve’s stomach growled, angry that he hadn’t eaten something in the last hour, which is what he’d found he needed when he wasn’t sleeping. It was ridiculous, the changed in his body, but at least the Chinese food was set to show up any minute. 

Steve’s blue gaze focused through his glasses when Darcy stuck her head in the door. She was sans her usual hat, so her hair was wild and curling around her face. A wide smile broke out on his face at the sight of her. She’d been weirdly busy the last few weeks, even skipping out of a few Sunday movie nights. He’d missed her, but hadn’t realized how much until she appeared.

“Darcy! You made it!” He pulled her into a hug, enjoying the floral scent of her shampoo, digging his nose in her hair so he could take a large, deep breath of it. She _oofed_ when he pulled her into a tight hug. “Thanks so much for coming!”

Eyebrows going up when Steve wrapped his arms around her, Darcy hugged him back. “Of course! Anything to help with your project,” she said, pulling back with a smile. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to meet Clint’s latest obsession.” Dropping her bag on the ground unceremoniously, Darcy crossed to the table and grabbed one of the bottles of water that’d been put out. “I’m shocked I’m the first one here…”

“Almost first,” Bucky said, pushing into the room, arms laden with pillows he’d stolen from the common area in the lobby of the art building. He threw them on the ground in a pile, ready and waiting for sitting. The room was large and open, plenty of space for whatever art project the students could create. 

He crossed the floor and hugged Darcy, enjoying the squeak she made when he lifted her off her feet and spun her. “ _Where have you been_?”

“Around,” she squealed, laughing breathlessly. Darcy slapped at his arms so he’d set her feet on the ground. She’d hoped they hadn’t noticed the amount of times she’d had to cancel plans. She didn’t feel like admitting she’d backed out of a few of their normal hangs so she could see more of Grant Ward. They were barely dating, after all, and they definitely weren’t _there_ yet and she didn’t want to bother explaining it to anyone if it didn’t work out. “You know how it is. Essays. Tests. School stuff. Add in work and it’s been a busy few weeks.”

“Missed seeing you outside of class,“ Steve said. It was true, even while in the haze of BuckyandSteve, he'd missed her company. 

“I missed you guys, too.” She smiled back at Steve, trying to keep the guilt from creeping into her face. Darcy was saved having to avoid talking when Sam clattered in next, texting on his phone, bag over his shoulder half open. 

Steve could see the normally organized folders starting to fly out of the bag, and Sam caught them with a flick of power. _Huh_. Sam wasn’t normally that casual of a user, especially since they all knew the risks of using too much. If he was willing to do that so easily, Steve had to worry if his friends was stressed more than he’d let on..

“I'm just here for take out and very intense reviewing. No fun is to be had,” Sam said, glancing up at everyone with a frown, his dark eyes almost asking them to argue the point.

“Aww, fun sucker,” Clint called from behind Sam.

“I’ve heard that about you,” came a lightly accented reply. 

Their heads turned slowly toward the low, almost gravelly voice from the woman at Clint’s side, shock overcoming the boys’ faces. Darcy covered her own shock by moving toward the door and the delivery guys who was holding their delicious, steaming, not-dining-hall food. She took the bags of delivery from the man wearing an unfortunate yellow and red uniform and looked over her shoulder at Steve. “Hey! You wanna sign for this, Steve?” she asked, before looking back to the redhead with a welcoming smile. “Hi, Natasha. Nice to see you out of history.”

Blushing, sure he’d been staring at Natasha in surprise, Steve scribbled something resembling his signature on the receipt as he came to stand next to Darcy. “Uh, hi Natasha.”

Up close Natasha was even prettier, which Darcy discovered was a whole different kind of intimidating. Blinking past her burgeoning girl crush, Darcy took the food and set it on the table, turning to the remarkable woman with a grin. As she so often did, she turned her words into a joke, attempting to breeze right past the slight hint of awkwardness, knowing how it felt trying to infiltrate a group of people who were as close as the boys were.

“Now don’t get scared, but you have this guy to your left. He’s blond, loves candy, and seems to have developed an unhealthy obsession with the color purple. Don’t make any sudden movements, and for the love of all that is holy, don’t let him sing to you. It’s terrifying.”

Laughing, Bucky started sifting through the bags with Darcy, pulling out the cartons and various accoutrements. “I think she’s aware of that, Darce.”

“I just had to go on the record. Blink once if you’re safe and two if you’re terrified and need rescued,” Darcy said, looking to Natasha with a friendly smile as she pulled out the dumplings.

Natasha just let one side of her lips quirk up. She blinked three times, very slowly and obviously, green eyes crinkling just the smallest bit at the corner. “Yeah, but have you _seen_ his arms?”

Clint grinned from behind Natasha, bouncing like an excited puppy.

_See, I told you, all of you, that my sweet techniques would woo my Slavic temptress._

Rolling his eyes, Bucky gestured for everyone else to come in and sit. He knew that Steve had to be starving now that the Power starting to run even stronger through him; his best friend had grown more, filled out more, and they were certainly burning enough calories by putting their hands and mouths on each other at every opportunity.

After having settled themselves around the piles of food on the floor, the only clean bit that wasn’t covered with the detritus of creativity, Steve started to explain what he was trying to accomplish with his project. Everyone seemed on board, which he appreciated, and his mind was already whirling with ideas.

He was laughing at something Clint said when he reached for the carton of orange and sesame chicken, fingers brushing against Darcy’s as she grabbed for the same. When she grinned at him, lips crooked and eyes bright, Steve felt his ears go hot, pink tinting his cheeks, before he pushed the container toward her. “No, you first, Darcy, or I won’t pay attention and there’ll be none left.”

The warmth of Steve’s hand against hers was startling, almost too hot. He felt feverish, but didn’t appear to be sick. Maybe he was nervous about his final project? Whatever it was, Darcy grabbed the carton from him with a warm smile. “I’ve noticed that. I’ve heard of the _Freshman Fifteen_ but I guess I didn’t about about the _Junior ‘I grew four inches in one semester’_.”

Clint choked a bit at her words, a piece of rice going down the wrong pipe leaving him coughing loudly. Sam helped by reaching out and slapping him hard on the back. “You okay there, hot shot?”

“Yep. Mmmhmm. I’m fine.”

 _Guess Darcy’s noticed a few things,_ Clint sent to the other boys, his voice in their heads dripping with mirth.

 _Our Steve has always been a fine specimen of a creature_ , Sam replied, _but is that **all** she’s talking about growing, boys?_

It looked like the boys were having one of those silent conversations, all eyebrows and eyes, shoulder shrugs and almost formed words. _Again._ Steve and Bucky were bright red, and Clint and Sam were snorting into their boxes of rice. Used to this after weeks of knowing them, Darcy continued eating her food, turning her thoughts to the newest member of the group. “So, Natasha, Clint has been derelict in his information-gathering duties. He would make a horrible spy. What are you majoring in?”

“I’m getting my bachelors in fine arts. Right now my focus is ballet, but I plan to be a choreographer and artistic director.”

“Wow,” Darcy said, eyes widening a bit, “that sounds like a lot of work.” Natasha gave her a soft shrug in response. The redhead wasn’t very talkative, but she was intense. Basically the polar opposite of Clint. But somehow, Darcy got it. Sometimes opposites attract. That’s how her mom and her dad had gotten together, after all. And for all the jokes Clint threw her way, she could tell he was totally smitten with Natasha.

“I told you. She’s brilliant.” Clint was practically beaming with pride. Natasha smiled at Clint’s words, chopsticks stabbing into the carton to grab another water chestnut.

“I’d love to see you dance sometime,” Bucky said, ignoring Sam’s laughter in his head. “Do you have any performances coming up?”

“Oh! Yeah! I’d love that, too. Make sure to tell me, we’ll make it a date!” Darcy said, her mind only seconds later realizing what she’d said in Bucky’s direction. _Really, Lewis?_

Bucky just grinned at Darcy and her softly pinkening cheeks, ignoring the slight shove from Steve at his side. “Sounds like a plan,” he said. “If that’s alright with you, Natasha?” When she nodded, he smiled, turning his grin to Steve with a wink.

Once the food was gone and everyone was sufficiently stuffed, Steve spent the next hour or so directing and moving his friends around into various combinations, really playing up the contrasts. Surprisingly, Natasha and Clint moved very well around each other, with very little direction needed from him at all. It was almost like a dance, he realized, using his camera as an excuse to watch them interact. All of them seemed comfortable, really, willing to put up with whatever weird thing he wanted them to do.

Steve enjoyed the juxtaposition between Darcy and Natasha. They were the same height, but the way they held themselves and their shapes were completely different. Natasha was grace, body stretching, using every muscle she had when she moved. A dancer, even without pointe shoes. Lithe.

Darcy was… different. Soft lines, a swell at her hips, lips pouting and full. She was beauty, dark hair curly and wild. If he’d taken more pictures of her than the others, it was because he wanted to really get her features right. Nothing more. He just wanted to know her like he knew Bucky. Every line. Every curve. Every freckle.

He watched as she whispered with Natasha, furtive glances being thrown Clint’s way as they spoke. When Darcy laughed, her head fell back, eyes closing and nose crinkling with mirth, his fingers clicked quickly, taking as many pictures as he could. Steve wanted to capture this, her laughing with her whole body, full of joy and no shred of self-consciousness.

He ended the session with all of them doing silly things, like jumping in the air or making faces. He was able to throw himself in for some shots, using the timer on the camera, excited to see how everything turned out. Just looking on the small viewer on the back of the camera wouldn’t give him a good enough idea, but he now had a more concrete idea of what he wanted to do for his final project. 

After thanking them for their time and saying goodbyes, Steve moved to pack up his camera and bag. Bucky was lounging on the couch, slouched down and legs spread. He loved watching Steve work, seeing him direct people, completely in his element. It had taken considerable self control throughout to not throw Steve down and kiss him senseless. “You got a little something on your face there, Steve. C’mere,” he said, beckoning him near with the curl of a finger. 

“You're just _now_ saying something? Goddamit. Thanks for nothing.“ Steve made his way over, rubbing a hand over his face, catching on the beginnings of stubble along his jawline. “How ‘bout now?”

“Can’t see that far,” Bucky said, using one foot to catch Steve by the leg and pull him closer.

Steve grinned, figuring out Bucky's game, then pressed his lips against the other man’s. “How ‘bout now?” 

Bucky pulled Steve on top of him, Steve's hips settling between his spread legs. He ran his hand into Steve's short hair, tugging his head to the side so he could follow the line of Steve's neck with his teeth.

Steve’s eyes fluttered closed. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of this man, with his slightly calloused hands and pouted lips. When Bucky tugged on the bottom of his shirt, he moved enough so it could be pulled over his head. He’d reserved the studio for the next hour and they’d already cleaned everything. He wasn’t in a rush, which meant he could savor the way Bucky’s lips moved down his chest, tongue circling his nipple.

Bucky grinned against Steve’s skin when his hair was pulled lightly, taking it to mean the blond appreciated what he was doing. Steve’s small hum of want vibrated against him, the feel of skin and the scent of charcoal dominating Bucky’s senses.

Darcy had gotten to the lobby before she reached in her purse, pushing things aside to find her keys. When she didn’t find them in the mess, she growled in frustration. Figuring she’d either forgotten them upstairs or they’d fallen out of her bag, she retraced her steps, eyes peeled on the stairs in case she’d dropped them there.

Not finding them, she slung her bag back over her arm and pushed through the door to the studio. “Sorry, I must have forgotten…”

The words from her mouth froze, as did her body. Her eyes took in the scene before her and for a second she didn’t put together what she’d walked in on. 

She saw the long, lean silhouette of Steve, his skin bared, his body facing away from her. His head was thrown back, and she could hear a small whimper echo in the large and empty room. There were a set of hands digging into his hips, and she managed to catch a head of auburn hair as it moved behind him.

Her heart dropped to her stomach and back up, flipping along the way. A thread of electricity sparked through her body at the scene before her. Darcy’s brain seemed to short, shock and the impact of the view almost physically jolting her. When she finally realized what was happening, a sudden tightening in her body caused her to gasp.

“ _Oh_!”

Bucky's head popped up on the other side of Steve, hair mussed, color high on his cheeks. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, as he tried to get his brain to function. He saw a frozen Darcy standing in the doorway, hazel eyes wide and lips parted.

“Uh, hi, Darcy,” he squeaked, not quite meeting her eyes, “uh, what did you forget?”

 _I'm going to die. Right here._ Steve thought, feeling flames lick into his cheeks. He couldn’t work up the nerve to look over his shoulder at her, couldn’t even swallow past the lump in his throat.

“Keys!” Darcy squeaked, her voice higher than she thought it’d be. She looked down at her feet, eyes wide, coughing in an effort to make her voice more normal, pretty sure she’d failed. She could feel the heat flow to her cheeks like lava. “Keys,” she said again, as if he hadn’t heard her the first time. “Yep, just forgot my keys. No big deal. I’m sure they’re here somewhere.” 

Bucky’s hands squeezed Steve’s hips, helping him move to the side so he wasn’t straddling him any longer. Seeing the mortification on the blond’s face, he tried his best to appear normal enough for the both of them. “Need help?”

“What? No. They’re here. Somewhere. They have to be.” _Come on, come on!_

Darcy started digging through the pile of pillows in the middle of the room, brightly colored cotton being thrown in the air as she frantically searched. She felt lightheaded, the pounding of blood echoing in her ears with a steady _whoosh whoosh whoosh_ sound. She almost gasped in relief when she heard the scrape of metal on the floor.

She looked up in time to see a very pink-skinned Steve carefully avoiding her eyes as he tugged his shirt on over his head. 

Bucky had moved toward her but stopped when she looked up at him, almost like she was an animal and he was doing his best not to spook her. “Are you alright?” he asked, hand stretched out to help her up from the floor.

“ _Yes_!” Mortified at how she was staring at both of them, she couldn’t seem to keep the breathiness out of her voice, her mouth parted, tongue flicking at her suddenly dry lips. 

_Pretty. Pretty pretty pretty._

“Thanks for the food. You guys have fun. I mean! Have a good rest of the night.” She backed up as she spoke, jumping when her back hit the table, sending a few empty water bottles loudly cascading to the floor. “I’m sorry,” Darcy managed, bending down to grab them and her purse. “I’ll take these with me. I’ll see you guys on Tuesday? Yes. Okay. Bye! Bye!”

Watching her fly from the room, Bucky took a second before slowly turning back to look at Steve, the blond pinker than Bucky had ever seen him. “That was…. Yeah.”

“I’m actually going to die of embarrassment. That. She. Oh, _my god_ ,” Steve said, eyes rolling toward the ceiling. That wasn’t the way he’d wanted anyone to see them, especially Darcy, since they hadn't really figured out all of _this_ yet. He reached down to adjust himself in his too tight jeans, heat sparking everywhere under his skin. 

Bucky crossed the space and wrapped his arms around Steve from behind. He could feel the heat of Steve’s skin through his clothes, both from embarrassment and the change. Bucky rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, sighing. “No, not the best way for her to find out. But she would have, eventually. I’m surprised Clint and Sam hadn’t ‘accidentally’ said something to her.”

Standing there, thinking about what had just happened, Bucky’s desire had waned just a little bit. “Do you think we should call? Text? Send a bouquet of ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry you walked in on us’ flowers?”

“Flowers and chocolate. Ma always said they come hand in hand. She likes lilies, right? No. Tulips.” Steve sighed, turning in the circle of Bucky's arms. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow at how easily Steve had recalled that bit of information, a small smile turning his lips. “You know her favorite flower?”

“Hey, I listen. It’s come up before.” Steve remembered because Darcy had told him a story about her grandmother. They’d known it was coming, she’d been sick with breast cancer for years, but it had still been a terrible blow for Darcy lose her. Later, Darcy had found a small box that her Nana had left for her. Inside were several pieces of jewelry as well as a few tulip bulbs with a note. 

_For my little tulip, may you spring anew every year and always take advantage of the sunshine_

Bucky nodded, leaning forward to press a somewhat chaste kiss to his love’s lips. “Okay. So tulips and chocolates it is. Speaking of two lips,” Bucky grinned into Steve’s neck, snickering as he felt more than heard Steve’s groan of indignation.

“Ugh. That was so awful.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.” Bucky’s thoughts turned from embarrassment to the man in front of him, and just like that, his desire was rekindled. How was he so affected by Steve? How had he ever had the willpower to deny what he felt for him? It was like an ocean, vast and endless, but not terrifying. Calm. _Right_. “You’re a little amazing, did you know that?”

“Me? What about you? I think you win the amazing title between the two of us.”

“Hey, no, don’t do that, Steve,” Bucky said as he turned Steve to face him. “Look at the beauty you made tonight. You literally made something out of nothing.”

“Bucky -”

“You have no idea how often I wanted to shove everyone out of this room and show you how fucking turned on I am. Jesus, Steve, watching you do your thing? Really _really_ does it for me.”

Steve’s voice was smaller than he would have liked. “Yeah?”

“Every time you take charge?” Bucky’s hands gripped Steve’s waist and pulled him closer.  
“Every time you get that look in your eye, like you’re in your element and know _exactly_ what you need done? And you’re not afraid to ask for it?” Bucky reached up and cupped Steve’s cheek, thumb swiping over the arch. “Everything about you….” He pressed his lips to Steve’s, soft and gentle, heavy with emotion that couldn’t be conveyed with words.

Steve softened in Bucky’s arms, returning the kiss slowly, carefully, with meaning and heat. He shivered as he slipped his hand under Bucky’s shirt to run his fingers gently over the warm skin of his lower back. He could feel Bucky’s hum of approval, and Steve pressed his hand to pull them closer together. No matter how tangled they ended up, it was never enough.

Pulling back slightly, Steve placed gentle kisses up Bucky’s jaw to his ear. “Want you. Feel like I could burn up from wanting you. Not just this,” Steve rubbed his cheek against Bucky’s. “But _everything_.”

His heartbeat sped up at the nearness, the _warmth_ of Steve’s body pressed against his. Bucky captured Steve’s mouth again, his tongue sliding against Steve’s lips, asking for entrance. Steve opened for him and Bucky deepened the kiss, pulling him closer, desperate for the slide of skin on skin.

The door wasn’t locked, but Bucky didn’t care. There was no stopping now, there was nothing but Steve and the desire flooding through his body. It was nothing to grab the hem of Steve’s shirt and pull it away from him, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder, mouth seeking, lips pressing to Steve’s neck, tongue tasting.

Need shot through Steve, electric and sharp, and he tugged Bucky down to the pillow covered floor. He let go of Bucky long enough for his shirt to join Steve’s before crashing their mouths together, hands wandering across Bucky’s bared skin, muscles sleek and toned, moving against Steve. He didn’t care that they could be walked in on, _again_ , not with the way Bucky moaned his name when Steve drew Bucky’s nipple between his teeth and tugged gently. “God, you taste good,” Steve said against Bucky’s chest, nipping at his collarbone. 

Bucky’s eyes were closed, lips parted as Steve kissed a path down his body. His jeans were uncomfortably tight and his cock strained against the zipper, hard and thrumming with need. He ran his fingernails down Steve’s back, digging in _just_ enough that he knew there’d be angry red lines on his skin, marking him, making him feel it. He heard Steve hiss against his stomach, chuckling softly. “Like that?”

“You know I do,” Steve rumbled. “I love being marked by you. ‘M yours, and it’s there.” Fuck, each touch was making Steve spark with desire and want, all of it because of Bucky. He moved his hands from Bucky’s hips to flick open the button of his jeans and slowly slide down the zipper.

Steve thought he was going to shoot off in his pants without being touched. Bucky wasn’t wearing anything underneath his jeans. Just bare skin and freckles, neatly trimmed hair and cock already leaking. “Fuck. That’s hot. I wouldn’t have been able to get shit done if I’d known you were like this,” Steve groaned, moving down so he could lick a long stripe up Bucky’s cock, the tip of his tongue playing with the foreskin and slit, loving the sweet and salty taste that was _Bucky_.

A sound clawed its way from the very center of Bucky, watching as Steve stretched his lips and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, blue eyes flicking up to look at him. Steve was beautiful all the time, heart stoppingly beautiful, but when he was running his tongue along the soft velvet length of him, Steve’s blue eyes gazing up to watch his face as he reacted to every movement, he was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen.

“Fuck, Steve, you feel so good,” he gasped, his hips pumping upward, unable to keep his body from responding.

An honest to goodness whine slipped out of Bucky’s lips when Steve moved off of Bucky to crawl back up his body, shucking his pants and underwear on the way. He used his hands to push Bucky back down, tugging his jeans off before Steve settled against Bucky, their legs twining. Steve felt the hair on his arms stand when Bucky rolled his hips up against Steve, fingers sharp against one hip, the other tugging in Steve’s hair to pull him down to press their lips together again.

Steve licked into Bucky’s mouth, rubbing their tongues together, pulling back to nip on that mobile upper lip before plunging forward again. 

Everywhere Steve touched him hummed with energy, each slide of skin on skin drawing him higher. Bucky reached between their bodies, wrapping his hand around both of them, already slick with precome. They groaned in unison, bodies moving in tandem. All Bucky knew was Steve, the weight of his body, the press of his tongue, the goosebumps traveling up and down his arms. 

Bucky stretched his neck, mouth panting against Steve’s, teeth biting at the cord that ran up from his shoulder, his face fitting against him perfectly, like it was made specifically for him, just like the rest of Steve’s body. Made for him, for _this_.

Every time they came together, Steve marvelled at how easy it was, how easy and right this felt, and he was drunk on Bucky. 

He panted into Bucky’s neck, not capable of words, too wrapped up in feeling the slide of his body against Bucky’s. Loving how their hips moved in tandem, their thighs brushing together, their breathing almost in sync. He was so close, hovering right at the edge of orgasm, wanting this feeling to last forever. He interlaced his fingers with Bucky’s free hand and pushed it over his head, causing Bucky’s body to bow and his head to fall back.

“So goddamed beautiful when you’re like this.”

Hips jutting upward into Steve, every push a new level of desire, every breath falling from his lips as some kind of prayer. “ _Steve_ ,” Bucky gasped, “close!” When Steve bent forward, drawing his earlobe between his teeth and pressing _just_ enough that it crested toward pain, Bucky spilled himself, warm and sudden and hard enough to steal his breath. Wave after wave crashed into him, until he was a babbling mess, still bucking into Steve.

Seeing Bucky lost in pleasure, then feeling the physical reality of it pushed Steve over that edge, and he came, hard, Bucky’s hand still moving and his body still hitching up into Steve’s. Little black spots danced at the edge of his vision, and Steve wasn’t sure he had all of the feeling in his limbs.

“Mmmm. So good. More. Nghnn,” Steve got out as he collapsed into Bucky, bringing their still joined hands to his lips.

Bucky’s arm wrapped around Steve, feeling the thin sheen of sweat that covered Steve’s back. He panted, hand brushing up to Steve’s neck then back down onto the swell of his ass, then started the circuit all over again.

“Gimme a minute,” Bucky laughed, the tiniest hint of tiredness in his voice. “Gotta catch my breath.”

“Not now. God. Still can’t really feel my toes. And someone’s probably waiting to use the studio.”

“I’m glad you’re finally getting laid Rogers, but some of us have work to do!”

“Like you haven’t done the same thing Wade!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	8. Entertainment, Food, and Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy goes on a date with Grant Ward, and while nice, it doesn’t end quite the way she’d hoped. Grant takes his frustrations out on someone else. Darcy dreams.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where we earn our Explicit Violence rating!

Darcy checked her reflection one more time, satisfied that she looked good while still looking like she hadn’t really tried. It was a hard line to walk, but she felt she’d been successful. She’d been on several dates with Grant Ward now, the man with the dark hair and nice smile. They’d done the normal college date stuff - coffee, lunch, studying together - but Grant had wanted to take it to the next level.

_Dinner._

It was stupid that it was almost nothing to get lunch together, but the second the clock hit eight on a weekend you were in a completely new and different territory. She’d discussed possible outfits with Jane, small butterflies in her stomach at the prospect. Between schoolwork and _work_ work, she’d been running herself ragged. 

Darcy’s mind turned as she reapplied her lipstick, once again flashing to the art studio and what she’d walked in on. The vision of Steve and Bucky, hands on each other and flushed skin, had popped into her mind more than she would’ve liked to admit. She’d tried to keep it out of her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure it was possible. There had been fingers digging into his skin and heads thrown back and small noises.

It was beautiful. She wasn’t blind. They were both gorgeous and the two of them together was almost too much. She’d been mortified, couldn’t have gotten out of the room quick enough, but it wasn’t because she _disliked_ what she’d seen. No, it was _very much_ the opposite. It had made her pulse quicken and her mouth go instantly dry. They’d looked happy. She wasn’t sure how she’d missed their looks at each other, but she had. And she felt like an idiot.

What it _had_ done, besides providing her with endless dream scenario possibilities, was make it clear that deciding to take Grant up on his offer of dinner was the best move.

Glancing at the clock, she wasn’t surprised that she heard a knock on the door at exactly quarter to eight. Grant Ward was nothing if not punctual. Pulling open her door, she flashed the man a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Grant Ward pulled a hand from behind his back, presenting her with the single red rose he’d hidden. 

Darcy’s smile grew at bit at the surprise. “It’s very pretty, thank you.” She took the flower and went back in her room, leaving the door open. “I’m just going to throw it in a cup real quick. You can come in if you want.”

“Okay.” 

While Darcy busied herself trying to find a clean cup tall enough to hold the rose, Grant put his hands in his pockets and took a moment to look around the room. It was an eclectic mix of colors, spread out all over the space. Yellow sheets with a blue comforter. Her bed was vaulted, a desk placed in the space below. It was scattered with paperwork, a laptop open and playing a newer pop song. A futon, open and covered in textbooks, pens, and pillows sat against one wall. The closet was open, a mash of clothing spilling out onto the floor. Christmas lights completed the look, wrapping around the walls of the room and casting everything in rainbow tones.

Finally finding a cup that would work, she filled it with water from the sink and set the rose on her desk. She took a moment to appreciate the line of Grant’s body, tall and dark, a grey button-down shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks. He’d dressed up for the occasion, which meant Jane had been right; the sixth date was, apparently, a big step forward. Darcy would have to thank her, since she’d been the one to suggest a nice dress instead of jeans.

“Are you hungry?”

The look on his face when he turned to look at her sent a small thrill up her spine. He was handsome, and the look on his face showed that, yes, he was hungry. Probably for far more than just dinner. “Of course.” He held his arm out to her. He was very much a gentleman. It was one of the things she’d come to like about him. 

Grabbing her bag and a cardigan, she wrapped her arm in his and let him walk her out of the room.

He took her off campus, to a small seafood mom-and-pop place Darcy hadn't been to yet. They had real tablecloths, with small votives and sea glass decorating the tables. The light was muted and perfect for a date. She ordered the lobster ravioli, and dug into the sweet rolls in front of her as they waited for their food. 

Her text alert on her phone sounded, the tone a clear pitched musical note, not unlike a fork striking the side of a glass. She pulled it closer to her, but when she saw it was Jamie, she muted her phone and put it in her bag. She wasn’t ready to talk about what she’d seen yet. Not yet.

Looking back at Grant, she pulled her lips upward into a smile. “So did Bobby ever get his head unstuck?”

“They resorted to using the peanut butter, but yeah, it’s out. Believe me, we took enough pictures that he’ll never forget it.”

Darcy gave a laugh, putting her chin in her hand as she looked across the table at him. She’d never understood the Greek life, but she knew people said they built friendships that lasted a lifetime. The stories of what went on in the Zeta Psi frat house was enough to give her nightmares, but she got a good laugh out of it, in any case. It didn’t really mesh in her mind, the man before her and the Scooby Doo-like hijinks that seemed to go on under the roof of his frat. But as the personal information they’d shared was mostly superficial, maybe she just didn’t know him well enough to make that judgement yet.

As she opened her mouth to speak again, a vibration in her bag distracted her. Her hands moved to pull her phone out, but she stopped herself and looked up at Grant. He was smiling pleasantly across the table at her, seemingly unperturbed by the constant stream of texts she always seemed to get. 

“You’re a busy girl. I’m glad you’re spending some of your time with me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, digging the phone out of her bag. Instead of just muting it, she navigated to the settings and turned vibration off as well. It wasn’t fair to Grant, the handsome man who was giving her his whole attention. Beside, he was very pretty and it wasn’t a hardship to look in his direction. “Group projects,” she said as an explanation.

“For the history class, right? How’s it coming along?”

Glad that he didn’t seem upset, she tore off another piece of bread and popped it in her mouth. “Mmmm,” she hummed around the bread before swallowing and taking a drink of her wine. “It’s going good. We’ve still got a few ideas to work through but most of our research is done. It’ll just be getting it all to come together.”

Grant nodded in understanding. “It’s hard to put a lot of time and effort into something and not see anything come of it.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But I’m going to make it happen.”

“Well, I for one believe you can do it.”

She smiled warmly at him. Darcy wasn’t sure why she’d had such a hard time initiating this relationship in the first place. Jane had been right; Grant had come into her work over the course of several days, somehow always finding a way to speak to her. He was handsome, a gentleman, and wanted to spend time with her. Why, then, was it so hard for her to just enjoy herself in his company?

Resolving that she was going to focus on the man before her and the evening he’d planned, Darcy listened to him as he recounted a story from his anthropology class. 

After their meal - and the three glasses of sweet red wine she’d enjoyed - Grant led Darcy down the winding sidewalks in the campus’ secondary quad. The buildings were swathed in darkness, but she knew that in the sun they were mostly red brick with hints of victorian architecture. The trees that lined the sidewalks were large, whose leaves would soon be changing from the vibrant green of summer to the reds, yellows, and oranges of fall. There were other people out walking, but since most students had found their way to the bars that dotted the area, it felt more like a secluded place for a stroll. 

Grant had his arm comfortably draped over her shoulders and Darcy took the opportunity to take in his warmth. She took a deep breath and the subtle fragrance of his aftershave filled her lungs. There was something underneath that too, but she hadn’t been able to place the smell yet. It wasn’t overpowering, just a hint, but she’d spent time trying to figure it out.

She turned to look up at him, only to find he’d been looking down at her. “Do you want to see something cool?”

Darcy rose an eyebrow, but gave him a nod after a second. He led them through the darkness, taking her a bit further from the beaten path, weaving their way until they were in the walkway between two large buildings, bricks and trees the only thing she could see anymore. There was a lightpost nearby, but it only seemed to cast a filtered illumination between the branches and leaves around them.

“Back in the 1600s, this area used to be named Gallows Hill.”

A slight shiver went up Darcy’s spine at his words. “I know. We did some research for class about it. Hartford had the first person put to death for being a witch in the country.”

“It’s weird to think that there have been people in this exact spot for hundreds of years. Life after life, century after century. Almost like a tradition that they want to keep.” When Grant saw another shiver run through her body, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her. “It’s one of the reasons I decided to come here. The history goes back so far. To be a part of something that will outlive you? What else could you want?” He looked up toward the sky, eyes falling closed as a small breeze ruffled his hair.

His words were wistful, and although Darcy had never really given thought to it, she could see how being able to trace history back that far could make you wish you could be a player in the story. “Yeah. It’s pretty cool,” she finally managed. 

He opened his eyes and dipped his chin to look at her. His face broke out into that grin of his, all jawline and scruffy stubble, and Darcy didn’t argue when he pressed his lips to hers. His arms wrapped around her waist and she answered by going onto her toes, draping her arms around his shoulders. 

The kiss was nice, pressure but not demanding, soft with a hint of steel. It had been ages - _ages_ \- since she’d been kissed and Darcy found herself melting against him. His hand came up to cup the side of her face, thumb rubbing along her cheekbone, taking his time. When he pulled back, it took a second for Darcy to open her eyes. He was grinning knowingly at her and she bit her lip as red blushed into her face. She’d let herself go into the kiss, the feeling of skin against hers, lips and tongues exploring.

“Did you want to come back to my place?”

Darcy blinked at him, thinking about what he was asking. Did she want to continue what they’d started, perhaps with a bit more skin on hers? Yes. Did she want to go back to the frat house he shared with thirty men? Not at all.

“No,” she said, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek when he pulled back, disappointment in the dark of his eyes, “but we can go back to mine.”

At her words, Grant smiled brighter than he had before. “I think that’s a fair compromise.”

It took them twenty minutes to get back to her room, just enough time for her to work up the nerve. She pushed the key into the lock, once again glad that she’d managed to get a single room. She’d have been fine rooming with Jane if she’d needed, but getting a single was like winning the lottery and she hadn’t looked a gifthorse in the mouth.

She flipped the switch that illuminated the Christmas lights but left the harsh fluorescents turned off. Dropping her bag to the floor and shrugging out of her cardigan, she turned back to Grant with a smile. While she waffled on how to initiate, he took action. Grant closed the distance between them, mouth no longer timid but pushing hungrily at hers.

The contact was delicious, and she appreciated the take-charge attitude on display. His hands traveled down her neck, rubbed over her clavicle, and worked their way south to the small of her back. She countered with her own hands, trailing down his checks to squeeze at his hips. In the haze of being touched after so long, she pulled at his shirt, freeing it from where it’d been tucked into his pants.

She stepped out of her heels as he toed out of his shoes. They both worked at unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to the floor. In the colored light, she watched him pull the white undershirt over his head. Her hands found the skin of his back just as he walked them backward toward the futon. She fumbled behind her as they kissed, pushing books and highlighters aside. Her dress was tight on her lower half, a pencil skirt that Jane had assured her was flattering, but he managed to get one knee between hers.

Skirt riding high on her thighs, Darcy accepted when he deepened the kiss, laying his body weight on top of her. It felt good, his body on hers, the heat of his skin making the room almost impossibly warm. She trailed her hands down his back while he kissed along the column of her throat. He licked the soft skin just below her ear and earned a light sigh from her, fingers digging into him as he worked.

Grant’s hand followed his mouth, caressing her neck before it moved lower, cupping the full weight of her breast. The top of her bra had appeared above the neckline of her dress, and he used a finger to dip just below the lace. The touch sent goosebumps over her arms.

It was nice. He was nice. The feeling of a body against hers, warm and soft and heavy, was what she needed. Whatever loneliness she’d been feeling was now quieted as she was shown attention, _any_ attention.

Her mind pause at the thought. She was enjoying the contact, skin on skin, but what was the small thread of guilt that sung in her chest? She liked the feeling of Grant Ward, but did she care that it was _Grant Ward_ , or was it just nice to have _anyone_ touching her?

Unaware of the internal conflict going on in Darcy’s mind, Grant continued his journey down her body. His tongue replaced his fingers along the top of her bra. When his fingers pulled the dress and bra down, taking her nipple into his mouth, Darcy let out an audible gasp that transitioned into a moan. For a few seconds, arguments in her head went silent. Her body was a thrumming thing of need, and Grant was pressing all the right buttons.

It was when his hand dipped lower, under her dress and started up her thighs, that Darcy’s eyes flew open. “Wait.”

To Grant’s propriety, he stopped the second she showed any kind of hesitation. He glanced up the line her body, his eyes hooded and dark where they hovered over her lower stomach. “What? Is something wrong?”

“No. Yes.” Darcy silently screamed as she let her head fall back to the futon. She lifted it a second later, rising up onto her elbows. “I’m sorry. I’m just… it’s been a lovely night but I don’t think I want to go any further.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, eyes hopeful that she’d say ‘no’ so he could continue. He sat backward, letting her sit up when she moved to do so. 

Trying in vain to pull the skirt of her dress down, Darcy managed to sit up, though she would have needed to stand in order to get her bra and breast back in the top of her dress. Crossing her arms over her chest for the time being, she gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. It was nice. The whole night was nice. I’m just… Not ready.”

Grant seemed to look at her for a long time, his face not angry or confrontational, just waiting. When she didn’t change her mind, he sighed and give her a smile. “No, that’s fine. I got carried away.”

“I know, so did I. And it was nice, Grant. I promise. As cliched as it sounds, it’s not you, it’s me.”

She rose to her knees as he came to stand next to the futon. He gathered his undershirt from the floor and shrugged into his button-down. Darcy tried to judge how he was feeling - Rejected? Detached? Angry? Disappointed? - but after gathering his shoes and looking at her, she still wasn’t able to tell what emotions were running over his face. 

But, soon enough, that same smile of his brightened his features. “Thank you for letting me take you out tonight, Darcy Lewis.”

Though it was more formal than she would have liked, she nodded at him as he walked toward the door. “I’ll talk to you later?” she asked.

“Sure.” He pulled open the door, the light of the hallway illuminating her kneeling on the futon, clothes disheveled and hair a mess. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she replied lamely as he pulled the door closed behind him. 

In the quiet of the room, Darcy let out a frustrated sigh, grabbing a book to her right and throwing it across the room. It hit the wall with a satisfying thud before it fell into a pile of discarded clothing. Breathing heavily, she sat back, feeling somehow both relieved that she’d stopped it from going further and at the same time frustrated that she’d stopped at all.

After a moment of wallowing, she climbed from the futon. Since she was already hanging out of her dress, she unzipped it and let it fall to the floor, pooling at her feet. _I even wore the good underwear_ , she thought, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. She pulled a Trinity College sweatshirt over her head and pulled on a pair of boxer shorts.

The hair she’d spent over an hour getting the perfect amount of curl was pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. She washed her face, mascara trailing down her cheeks before she wiped it away. Ready for bed, but body frustrated with unreleased tension, she fished in her bag for her phone. She saw the large number of missed texts from Jamie and Steve, but ignored them. Instead, she opened a message for Jane.

 

**Jane:** _No. No karaoke. I don’t care how many times you offer me your first born. Not. Interested._  
**Darcy:** _Boo_  
**Jane:** _Just remember, sex is fun and games until someone gets koala chlaymdia._  
**Darcy:** _I fucking suck._

The smile left his face the second he was alone outside of Darcy’s dorm.

How dare she.

_How dare she!_

Didn’t she know who Grant Ward was? He had risen from the literal ashes of his childhood to secure his place in greatness. He was Vice President in the most influential Fraternity on campus, a straight-A student, and on the Student Honor Board.

She should be _grateful_ that he even looked her way. 

He closed his eyes and breathed, making himself push his shoulders down from his ears and unclench his fists. He had better uses for his time. Right now he needed to get the itch out from under his skin, under his hands. Rolling his neck, sighing as the bones popped and resettled, Ward headed toward the other side of campus.

There was always a party, always at least one pretty freshman standing with her drink, happy for any kind of attention.

Entering the frat house, he met eyes with Rumlow and smirked, nodding to the basement. Rumlow saluted him with his beer, eyes tracking back to the girl in front of him.

Ward headed to the back of the room, chucking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. It was always so sticky and hot with this many bodies moving around.

_Distasteful._

His mood lifted when he saw the waspish strawberry blonde eyeing him from one of the couches. He could tell her beer was old - she had already wiped the condensation off and no more had formed.

“May I get you another drink?” He asked as he stood near her. “I’m Doug.”

“Genevieve.” she replied, her voice strong with a Southern accent. 

_Hick._

“I’d love a bottle of water, if it’s not too much trouble.” She stood when Ward gestured for her to go first. She took her time, eyeing him from toe to head with hooded eyes.

“It is a bit warm in here, isn’t it?” He said, returning her gaze. “We could take our drinks downstairs. It’s amazing how a basement regulates temperatures.” She nodded and followed him down the stairs, sighing when the cool air hit her. 

The door clicked behind them, and Ward led her to a small room on the right. All of the basement’s rooms had beds, the one they entered also had flames flicking in the fireplace. It was cool enough to need it in the basement, even in the summer. He set his water on the small side table, and turned to... whatever her name was. It didn’t really matter. His cock was slowly filling again with the thoughts of what was to come. 

Her hands came up and slipped his shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning the top few buttons and running her nails lightly across the exposed skin.

“Now, I know you didn’t bring me down here to talk about our majors and the weather,” she said, eyes hooded as she slipped out of her shoes and pulled her dress over her head.

Ward smirked, eyes going dark as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and slipped out of his trousers. Naked, he raked his eyes over - what was her name? Jenny?

She was all angles, breasts barely enough to cup in his palms, with skinny little legs and arms. No real curve, no real womanliness to her. Still, she’d do.

He pulled a condom out of his pants, and slipped it on, sitting on the bed and pushing her to her knees in front of him. She didn’t waste any time on getting his dick wet. _Huh_. She was actually decent at giving head. 

_Slut._

She was moaning around him, trying to catch his eyes. Impatient, he pulled her off of him. Kissing her, he tasted cheap lipstick and latex before tossing her on her back, pulling her legs up to rest on his shoulders, letting him plunge deeper. She was warm enough, and wet enough, and he closed his eyes and thought of Darcy.

Her floral perfume.

The sweet taste of her mouth.

How her curves molded to his body. He wanted to fuck her enormous tits, mark her up.

What that sinfully red mouth would look like gagging on his cock, come dripping out the sides.

Her screams as he tied her up and wouldn’t let her move, using her as a series of holes for his pleasure.

It wasn’t enough.

He opened his eyes to see - _Gabbie?_ \- moaning like the whore she was. He dropped her legs and leaned over. She thought he was leaning down to kiss her, and he did, distracting her as he reached between the mattress and the headboard.

God, he was so close to coming. The tightening in his balls started when Ward watched the shock on her face as he slid the scalpel across her carotid artery. Then it was the blood on his hands as it poured out of her body, the life draining out of her. It was when he cupped in his hands, his fingers sliding down her body in red rivulets, that pushed him over the edge, yelling out his release. He filled the condom, pumping into her soon to be lifeless body as she stared up at him with wide eyes. 

He pulled out carefully, catching the condom with his hand, careful to keep the scalpel from cutting himself. Tying the latex off, he threw it into the fire to burn.

Ward looked down at himself, covered in dark blood and sweat, his breathing heavy from the sex and the rush that came with the kill. The tension drained out of him, finally feeling sated after the disappointment Darcy had selfishly filled him with. “I need a shower,” he said aloud to no one, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

The body laid there, dead eyes wide, staring at nothing, legs spread obscenely. The blood from her body had slowed, but some still dripped off her limp hand and onto the floor. Markings glowed eerily purple, and it was like the blood was never there. Soft, dry whispers of noise came from the darkness, and then it was like she was never there, too.

Darcy was warm. She was so warm. It was like the perfect day at the beginning of summer, where the sun is hot, but the breeze keeps it comfortable, even out of the shade. She could smell pine and sassafras, and the sweetness of honeysuckle.

Lips traced down her spine as hands smoothed over her hip to cup her ass, a body below pulling her down. She was confused for a minute, before she realized that Bucky was the owner of the lips at her back, and the slightly calloused hands pulling her closer belonged to Steve.

She sighed into the slide of skin on skin, Bucky pushing her hair to one side as he kissed along the back of her neck and further to her jawline. Steve’s face rose up to meet Bucky over her shoulder, the men kissing. Darcy watched their tongues play against each other, so close, body tightening at the view. 

“ _Fuck, that’s hot_ ,” she breathed against their cheeks. She was rewarded with a chuckle, both men turning their faces toward hers. Steve pulled back enough to kiss her, all lips and tongues, as Bucky nuzzled the side of her neck. 

“Hot for you, Darcy. All for you,” Steve murmured, rocking against her. She gasped as he teased her entrance, cock warm and hard, slipping up to nudge against her clit. “Can I have you, darling, will you let me in?”

She couldn’t answer with words, biting her lip and humming as she nodded her head. He pushed in, slowly, a form of torture itself, her body already wet and ready for him. They both gasped as Steve filled her, their bodies fitting together like it was designed.

Bucky moved so he could see their faces and when Darcy rose above Steve, he leaned forward to pull her nipple in his mouth, biting down softly, earning a cry from Darcy as she began moving up and down, grinding down against Steve, his fingers digging into her hips.

“That’s it sweetheart, take what you need,” Bucky crooned in her ear. “Wanna see you come, see you fly.” His hands moved her hips with Steve, helping her to hit spots that made her vision start to blur. Maybe three more strokes and she was coming around Steve, body shaking, his name tumbling from her lips.

She didn’t have time to recover, or to think about Steve’s pleasure before he was pulling out of her and she was filled from behind by Bucky. He pulled her up against him, slowly rolling his hips, hands coming to the front to roll her nipples with his fingers.

Steve leaned forward, moving until he was inches away from them, his tongue pressing, licking where she and Bucky were joined, where he was moving slowly in and out of her. The tip of Steve’s tongue brushed against her clit, just the lightest touch, and she jerked in Bucky’s arms.

“You taste so amazing, both of you.”

“ _Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!_ ” she babbled, crying out with every pump of Bucky’s hip into hers, every caress of Steve’s tongue against her. Their hands on her body kept her grounded but she felt like she was floating, every nerve in her body firing at the same time. 

“That’s it,” Steve hummed, rising to grab her as Bucky’s hands fell down to her hips, body moving quicker, Darcy’s chest bouncing with each heavy thrust. As Bucky began moving quicker, harder, Steve tangled fingers into Darcy’s hair, his mouth crashing against hers. She cried into Steve’s mouth as Bucky’s rhythm began to falter, uneven and rushing for release.

The feeling of Steve in front of her, mouth feeding hungrily at hers, and Bucky behind, their bodies filling the room with the noise of skin hitting skin, pushed her over. She came again, body spasming around Bucky.

She couldn’t do anything but watch as the two men kissed each other hungrily, Steve slotting himself in the slick space between her hip and Bucky’s, his movement an echo of Bucky behind her. They each held on to her, to each other, chasing their orgasms, until they cried in tandem, stilling. Darcy could feel the hot come inside and spread on her skin, and she moaned.

She opened her eyes, and saw the Christmas lights she’d left on, Netflix asking her if she wanting to continue watching her show.

Her clothes were sticky and damp, and it just took the lightest brush of her own fingers before Darcy was coming again.

“Holy motherfucking shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	9. If My Heart Was a House You’d Be Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha contacts Darcy for coffee. Steve is in Art Mode and has some thoughts.

  
**Nat:** _Hey Darcy. This is Natasha. I stole your number from Clint’s phone. I was wondering if you wanted to get a coffee together one day this week?_  
**Darcy:** _Stealing something from him? I’m impressed. I’m totally game for coffee. Does a day work better for you? Do you mind if I invite my friend Jane_?  
**Nat:** _Sure. Wednesday @ 2? @ T.Spoons?_  
**Darcy:** _Perfect. See you then!_

“Come to mama, you delicious cup of caffeine and sugary goodness,” Darcy addressed her coffee, hands wiggling around the cup as she breathed deeply. Normally, she was a black kind of girl, but she needed the boost today. Between a test in her Justice and Shakespeare class, the double shift at the shelter over the weekend, and how weird the past few days had been, she _deserved_ coffee.

She looked for Natasha’s curls, but didn’t see them, nor did she see Jane’s usually messy bun. For once, she was early. She grabbed a table as a group of students abandoned it, cutting off another person with an “Oops, sorry,” as she threw her bag down.

After triumphantly claiming the table, she pulled out her phone and shot out a series of texts. She was toying around with an idea for her next paper in her Shakespeare class, envisioning what the Bard’s plays would look like if they had social media way back when. Romeo and Juliet with access to facebook? Terrifying. Iago using snapchat to mess with Desdemona? Sinister.

She looked up with a start when Natasha seemingly _bamf_ ed into reality next to the table. “Wow! You really came out of nowhere!”

The redhead grinned, nodding toward Darcy’s phone.”You were a little distracted.”

“Yeah. Still thinking about getting you a bell, though.” 

“Who’s getting what for who?” Jane smiled politely as she slipped into the seat next to Darcy. 

“Oh, you know. Just putting a bell on Natasha. How are you? How’s Professor McHottie?” Darcy cried out when Jane’s elbow hit into her side. “Ow!” When Jane gave her a pointed look, Darcy gestured half-heartedly up to Natasha. “Oh, come on. Everyone knows.”

“That’s true. The Kat von D tattoo concealer works much better on bruises and marks than whatever it is that you’re using,” Natasha offered. She shifted to her other foot, a small thread of discomfort in her movements. “Want anything? My treat.”

Jane continued to frown at Darcy for bringing up her very hot colleague, but her gaze softened when she looked up at Natasha with a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks. Hot chocolate, please. Extra whip.”

Natasha returned shortly with her very dark tea and Jane’s hot chocolate, which she produced with a flourish. She sipped her own drink, grimacing softly at the taste.

“I haven’t trained the barista to make tea properly yet,” Natasha said. “It’s still too weak.” Even though her English was perfect, she had the slightest of Russian accents on certain words. Darcy thought it was charming.

“I like the sweet stuff,” Jane offered. “I never got a taste for coffee.”

“It might be the one thorn in our friendship,” Darcy said with a labored sigh. Tucking her phone under her bag, she focused her hazel eyes on Natasha. “So… how are things going?”

“With?” A single red eyebrow raised in Darcy’s direction.

Darcy was, with just one word, intimidated by the beauty before her. “Oh, you know. Life. School. We don’t get to talk much.”

“She means Clint.” Jane said.

“She means Clint.” Natasha agreed with a nod.

“What? Is it so wrong for me to want to know a few things. What is it like? Does he joke _all the time_ or does he have a deeply _deeply_ buried serious side? Does he snore? He looks like a snorer.”

Natasha turned her questioning gaze from Darcy to Jane. “Is she always like this?”

“Afraid so,” Jane answered. “I actually told her to stay away from me but she pestered me with questions and wore me down until it was easier to be best friends than enemies.”

“I’m hoping some agency with lots of letters and acronyms will use me as a _sooper sekret_ agent, able to infiltrate people with my annoyance and tenacity,” Darcy added, smiling.

Natasha shrugged one shoulder, the movement both graceful and elegant. “Clint is… Clint. I met him at judo club, in the student lounge. He was drinking coffee out of the carafe. The _carafe_. I’m surprised he doesn’t have some kind of exotic fish disease.”

Darcy’s nose crinkled as she stuck her tongue out. “That’s wrong on so many levels.” She laughed when Natasha smiled, however small. “Well, I guess that’s part of his charm?”

“Or something.”

Realizing that Natasha was going to be a tough nut to crack - how did her face give away _nothing?!_ \- Darcy let the Clint stuff rest. Maybe when they knew each other better she’d be more willing to share. “How did you get into judo? That doesn’t sound like something you just stumble across.”

“I’ve taken ballet since I was a little girl. The movement is similar, so I fell into it quite easily. Other sports would have interfered, but judo actually helps my dancing. Cross training has become very important.”

Nodding, Jane took another sip from her hot cocoa. “I’ve heard dancing and martial arts go pretty well together.”

“It’s true. You see a lot of crossover between the two,” Natasha confirmed.

“Don’t you have to be graceful to do judo? How on earth does Clint manage? I’ve seen him trip _up_ stairs before.” She was rewarded with a small smile from Natasha, which was quickly becoming Darcy’s new goal in life.

“He’s not as bad as you’d think. He’s actually very sweet,” Natasha said, softly. “Besides, have you seen his arms?”

Darcy and Jane both nodded solemnly. 

That was the second time she could remember Natasha saying something about Clint’s arms. She supposed everyone had a thing. Natasha’s was arms. Darcy’s was eyes. And if Professor McHottie was any indication, Jane enjoyed giant blond-haired Viking men.

“Did you grow up in Russia?” Jane asked, turning the cocoa cup in her hands. 

Natasha nodded. “Until I was eleven. We came here so I could train and dance. It is very different here. Your winter is almost laughable.”

“Very true,” Darcy agreed. “What was the hardest part about adjusting?”

Taking a long drink of her tea, Natasha considered the question. “I guess the biggest change was how much everyone talks. It took me a while to understand certain phrases that are used often. ‘As happy as a clam.’ ‘Barking up the wrong tree.’ None of these things made any sense for a long while.”

“It’s true. That’s one of the hardest things to learn about the English language,” Jane agreed. “Do they have any phrases like that in Russia, though?”

“Хоть кол на голове теши,” Natasha rattled off in Russian. “It translates literally to something like ‘you can sharpen an ax on top of this head.’ It means that he’s a very stubborn person. It’s applicable to a few people we know.”

Darcy looked at her, mouth agape. Yeah, that was hot. “Is it too late for me to pick up Russian?”

“With your course work? Yes.” Jane gave a shrug when Darcy looked at her incredulously. “What? It’s true.”

Shaking her head at Jane, Darcy turned back to Natasha. “Could you teach me a few things? Ooh! Curse words! That way no one would understand what I’m actually saying.”

“Это можно устроить,” Natasha said.

“If you just called me a ‘tart’ or ‘woman of the night’ I wouldn’t even be mad. It just sounds so cool!”

Steve couldn’t help but be comfortable in his well-worn clothes. They weren’t his, not molded to his body from long and familiar wear, but he couldn’t bear the thought of wearing brand new clothes in the studio. He was thankful for the thrift store in town; two pairs of worn jeans and a few t-shirts for under ten bucks. The shirt he had on was already covered in oil paint, and the jeans had a hole in the knee from where he’d tripped and fell in the hallway.

He was happier than a pig in mud.

Rock music played from Steve’s iPod, just loud enough to drown out the sounds of students working in other studios. He didn't know how long he’d been working on this piece, but he had hit one of those times where his focus was hypersensitive, and he had to work to get everything out of him before his fingers forgot what they were supposed to do.

He was working on a diptych. He’d stretched his own canvas (it was still a bitch and a half, but he was very thankful for the new strength the Power was giving him), sketched out the images from the photo shoot he’d selected, and began to painstakingly fill the images in with oil paint.

It would surprise exactly no one who knew him that he had chosen Bucky to be at the left of the piece. He was in profile, the look on his face one of fond irritation, eyes crinkling in the corners. He was in desperate need of a haircut, fringe falling to brush the top of his ears and falling over his eyes. Steve played with the shadows of his sharp cheeks, the curve of his ear, his lush lower lip.

Darcy was on the other side, also in profile. This was from a picture on his phone - a candid from one of their movie nights. Her nose was scrunched up in concentration, bits of hair falling around her face and neck from the messy bun on the top of her head. Her face was round and soft where Bucky’s was sharp, but their coloring was so close. 

He got lost for hours, fingers smeared with carbon and oils, little flecks of it in his hair.

Steve knew his hands would never be able to truly capture Bucky’s beauty. The absolute ruddiness of his cheeks when he’d been laughing, or the glint in his eye when he was doing something devious. He’d grown up staring at Bucky’s face, but it was never enough. Here, in his element, he was able to accept things he’d fought against everywhere else. The pull he felt for his best friend was strong, and he could feel it in his bones. He was so goddamned relieved that he didn’t have to fight it anymore.

Darcy on the right, endearing and focused, was something different than he was used to. The last woman he’d spent this much time drawing had been Peggy. The similarities between the two were striking; he remembered Bucky saying something about him having a type, and Steve found it hard to argue. The _life_ that Darcy managed to convey in her hazel eyes was hard to translate, but Steve had done his best, regardless.

He stood and stretched, feeling every joint pop and the ache in his legs and lower back from hunching over, ass on the edge of the hard metal stool for way too long. Steve scratched his stomach absently before moving to wash out his brushes and clean up.

He knew Bucky would be back at their dorm waiting for him, soft and sleepy. He’d kissed Steve soundly before he left in the late afternoon, waving off Steve’s concern of not knowing when he was going to be back, and not wanting to wake Bucky when he came in. Steve wanted nothing more in that moment to be curled up in their bed. It gave him a little thrill to think of it as _their_ bed. It smelled like sleep and sex and their mixed cologne.

It was nothing to just _move_ himself there. 

The light was still on at Bucky’s desk, low enough that Steve wouldn’t trip on anything but not enough to keep Bucky awake. Bucky was curled up on his side, mouth slightly open, sheet pulled down enough that Steve could see Bucky was only in briefs. Steve looked at Bucky with a mixture of affection and tempered lust, while he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture silently.

He didn’t even bother with pajamas, just slipped into bed behind Bucky, pulling him close and kissing the back of his neck. He felt his body relaxing against his lover, eyes closing easily as his breath slowed to match Bucky’s. He fell into dreamless sleep, for once, neither of them disturbed in the quiet of their bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	10. Right In Front of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy gets some help from Steve and Bucky. Steve and Bucky make things official.

“What did that highlighter ever do to you?” Steve asked Bucky from where they were curled up in Steve’s bed. They had some show they had both seen playing in the background, and were pretending to study for midterms.

Bucky was trying to study. Really, he was. But Steve still smelled like the pile of leaves Bucky had pushed him into earlier that morning on their way back from breakfast. And he wasn’t wearing anything but those thin knit pajama bottoms that clung to his ass and just gave the hint of dick when he walked.

Not that Bucky had been staring. 

Steve turned to meet Bucky’s eyes, hand wandering from where it had been on Bucky’s knee to his inner thigh. He had given up on reviewing dates for his art history class and had been slowly working his way into Bucky’s lap. 

“If you’re trying to distract me, you’re doing a damn good job,” Bucky said, finally giving in and pushing his book away. He grabbed Steve’s arm and pulled him on top, knees opening to accept his weight. They’d been in a haze of skin and breath for the past few weeks. It’d been perfect and everything Bucky had hoped it could be.

“My brain is literally not working, and not because you sucked it out,” Steve replied, humming against Bucky's chest. He was warm and perfect for snuggling and not looking at any more statuary. “I cannot study anymore. I will die. I will die in your arms like a bad eighties song.”

“So dramatic,” Bucky chastised wryly, sifting through Steve’s hair with his fingers. “What do you propose we do instead?”

“I’ve got a few suggestions.” Steve followed his words with his lips, feeding hungrily at Bucky’s mouth as he pushed himself up on his arms, hips grinding just enough to cause delicious friction between their bodies.

_*ding*_

Steve hummed into Bucky’s mouth, tongue swiping against his lower lip. “Phone.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, trying to bring the blond down on him fully, to connect the entire length of their bodies. He couldn’t get enough of his skin onto Steve’s.

_*ding*_

Eyes rolling into the back of his head as Bucky pumped his hips upward, Steve pulled his head away, Bucky’s tongue flicking against his lips as he did so. “Your phone.”

Frustrated with the loss of contact, Bucky opened his eyes, glancing over at his phone which had fallen off the bed and was laying face down. “Ignore it. If Clint and Sam need us, they know how to get a hold of us.”

_*ding*_  
_*ding*_  
_*ding*_

Making a resigned sigh, Steve leaned across Bucky’s body, reaching over the edge of the bed and struggling to grab the phone. Successful, he frowned at the screen and the amount of texts.

 

**Darcy:** _Hey Jamie, are you available?_  
**Darcy:** _I’m volunteering at the shelter tonight and the girl I do it with normally is sick and can’t come._  
**Darcy:** _I wouldn’t ask this last minute if I had a choice._  
**Darcy:** _Texted Jane, Sam and Clint and they’re all busy._  
**Darcy:** _It’s alright. I’ll find someone else. Thanks._

Steve typed back quickly: 

 

  
**James:** _can be there in 20. Bringing Steve._  
**James:** _sorry-wasnt near phone_

One of Bucky’s dark eyebrow went up at the message Steve had sent. “Twenty minutes? Is that how it is?”

“Shut up and take your pants off.”

They made it within twenty-five minutes, allowing for one short use of Power to transport them to the alley outside of the shelter. Steve could hear the yips of puppies and the louder calls of cats, all overlaid with the excited sounds of passing people. He hurried around the corner, waving to Darcy to get her attention.

“Sorry, sorry. What can we help with, what do you need?” 

The appreciation on Darcy’s face was plain, though when her eyes landed on their hands laced together, she had to swallow hard and repeat a mantra in her head to keep from combusting in embarrassment. She wasn’t the first person to walk in on two unbearably attractive men in a sexy!time situation. 

_Move on, Lewis. They’re here to help, not for you to oogle._

“Thank you so much, I would have been here all night if I didn’t have an extra set of hands to help me.” Darcy adjusted the bags in her arms, shifting them so she could grab the keys from her pocket. “The shelter closes in a half-hour, but all the animals need their cages cleaned, need fed, some need baths and meds. Julia usually helps but she had a family emergency so it’s just me for these thirty cats and seventeen dogs.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t seen Darcy really in charge of something, and it was _a lot_. And that was _a lot_ of animals. “Cages first, then food, then bath, then meds?” Steve looked at Bucky. “What? You grew up with a dog. I just had a turtle.”

“Yes. To all of that. Did the turtle have a name? Nevermind. Sorry. There’s a lot to do.” Darcy took a deep breath, trying to prioritize what needed done. She stopped and smiled at the boys. “Thanks for the help. Just like you said. We’ll let the dogs out, clean the cages. Then do the rest.”

She walked in, arms full, bypassing the front desk, but throwing Gladys a smile as she did so. Darcy glanced over her shoulder to make sure Steve and Bucky were following. Glad to see they hadn’t run screaming to the hills yet, she led them to the back, where families looking for their new pets weren’t allowed.

Setting the bags in her arms down, she turned to look around the room with her hands on her hips. “Okay. Who’s ready to play with some dogs?”

“Puppies. Every dog is a puppy,” Bucky said. He was smiling at hearing the excited yips and whines coming from the kennels. He plopped himself on the floor as Darcy started opening doors, and actually giggled when he was soon covered in dogs. There wasn’t anywhere not wiggling for his hands to rest.

“Steve, Steve, you gotta -” Bucky tried to get out, but he was licked in the face by a very enthusiastic pit mix.

Steve took a long moment to just watch Bucky. It was something special to see Bucky this happy, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughed. Whenever he tried to talk, another dog went for his face with their tongue. Before long he was laid on the ground, lost in the sea of fur and wagging tails.

Seeing that Darcy was already going into the open cages, Steve sent one more look at Bucky before he crossed to her, grabbing the scooper from her hands. “I got this, you worry about the beds and towels.”

Thankful, Darcy turned toward the laundry room.

It took longer that normal to clean out the cages and get the dogs in the yard, but that was because there were several moments just spent enjoying the wet noses and happy faces that curled around their legs. Darcy and Steve both seemed happy to work while Bucky kept the dogs occupied. It wasn’t only about the things that needed done, it was just _fun_ , being here with the three of them and a gaggle of furry pups. They threw a ball back and forth while they cleaned, most of the dogs going from person to person. 

Careful to keep the dogs that didn’t play well with others separate, it wasn’t long before most of the dogs were laying down in their cages, tongues out and panting happily. Darcy straightened as she ducked out of the last cage, raising a hand to swipe at a sweaty bit of hair as it fell into her eyes. “Food?”

Steve grinned from where he was throwing a last load of laundry in the washer. “Food.”

“I can get that, you go play with the kittens, Steve,” Bucky said, wiping his hands on his jeans. He grinned at Darcy. “Make sure you count noses before we leave.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve replied with about as much dignity as he could, considering he was already covered in kittens. One had already made its way to his shoulder, grooming his hair with a tiny pink tongue. A large long-haired cat was yowling as it wound around his ankles. Steve had a third, an orange tabby, cradled in his arms. 

Darcy whipped out her phone, taking several pictures of Steve, laughing. He was radiating pure sunshine. “That is so going up on the shelter’s FaceBook and instagram.”

“You’ll be Instagram famous in no time,” Bucky said, pulling a cat pan from a cage. It was ridiculous how much his stomach flipped when he looked at Steve, covered in cats and smiling from ear to ear. It didn’t seem real.

Darcy left out a little _yip_ as one of the kitten’s claws got stuck in her sweater as she passed by a cage. “Help!”

Bucky laughed, crossing to her. “Hold on, I’ll get you free.” The cat let out a pitiful, high-pitched meow as he deftly separated sweater from paw. “He just wants a little love, that’s all.” He wiggled his fingers at the kitten, who rewarded him with a playful bite.

“I can already see the gears turning in your mind, Steve. They don’t allow pets in the dorms. You’d have to get an off-campus apartment,” Darcy advised, recognizing the look on his face. She’d worn a similar one often.

“Thought about it a bunch?” Steve asked as he walked up, a furry tuxedo breed in his arms, held cradled like a baby. 

“Maybe a little bit,” she confessed, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s hard to come in here every week and see the same faces. This might be the only job where you really hope everyone is gone the next time you come in.”

“I’d keep them all if I could. Ma always had strays following her home, so I got used to having animals coming in and out. Remember that one time Bekah brought home what she thought was a dragon?”

“A _what_?”

“Some idiot bought a crocodile and didn’t realize it would grow. It escaped and was trying to hibernate when she got ahold of ‘im. I never heard Ma raise her voice like that before,” Bucky said.

“I thought she was going to light the damn thing on fire. Bekah was so disappointed,” Steve replied. At Darcy’s questioning glance, Steve gestured toward his best friend. “Bucky’s twin sister, Bekah. She’s studying herpetology at UCLA.”

“Ah.” Darcy was charmed by both Steve and Bucky playing with the animals; they were gentle, and kind, and she could tell they were genuinely having a good time. You could tell a lot about how animals were around people, and how people treated animals.

“So is Ma _Jamie’s_ mother, or yours, Steve?” It seemed like they both used the term for the same person interchangeably. 

“Both,” Steve and Bucky answered at the same time. Laughing, Steve watched as Bucky turned back to the cages and continued working. “My mom is a nurse and she usually worked night shifts. When she left for work, I’d go over to Bucky’s place and his mom would watch me. I ate dinner at their house most nights, usually fell asleep there, too.”

Bucky looked up as Steve explained, warmth in his eyes. Their childhood hadn’t been easy, but their constant had always been each other. Some things didn’t change.

Darcy nodded, watching the looks pinging back and forth between the men. It was obvious the history between them was thick. To be honest, she’d wondered how the four of them had grown up. They all seemed so close. She barely remembered anyone before high school and talked to even less on a normal basis. It seemed nice, to have those memories and maintain those relationships over so many years.

“Do you have any siblings, Darcy?” Steve asked. “I don’t have any, but between the boys and Bekah, I don’t feel like I really missed out on anything.”

Darcy shook her head. “Just me, mom and dad in small-townsville, Virginia. Dad works for the electric company, and Mom’s a librarian at the elementary school.” Coming to Trinity had been a bit of a culture shock, but Darcy loved it here. “Jane’s like the sister I always wanted.”

“How did you two meet?”

Taking a deep breath, Darcy turned to Bucky with a shrug. “I came up here when I was a freshman in high school. I did a tour of the school and campus. I wasn’t going to get into college without a scholarship so I thought the sooner I determined where I wanted to go, the sooner I’d be able to figure out which scholarship I needed. Jane was the tour guide. She was still in undergrad.”

“I always wondered how you knew the TA,” Steve offered, hands petting along a ragdoll kitten who’d decided she wanted to eat his shoelaces.

“Yeah. She gave me, well, _everyone_ , her contact info and said if we had any questions that we should reach out. So I did. I’m sure she thought I was just the weird high school kid, but she was nice and kept answering. After a few months, she said she’d help me look for scholarships. It’s very possible I wouldn’t be here talking to you nice boys without her.”

“It’s nice to have someone in your corner like that,” Bucky said, dusting his hands off on his pants as he finished cleaning the last cage.

Steve sneezed as a small tail ran underneath his nose. He untangled the kitten from his shirt and gently placed her into her crate. He poked a finger in where she had a paw out, mewing her displeasure.

 _It looks like your allergies are clearing up_ , Bucky sent the blond. Before, Steve couldn’t even be in a house where someone had a cat without going into a full asthma attack. There were definite perks to the Power, even with all of the downsides. 

“Yeah, Jane’s the best, except when she’s deep in research and only eats poptarts and chocolate milk.”

“Is that why she was in your phone as ‘Poptart’?” Bucky asked with a smile.

“Yeah.”

“What am I in your phone?” he asked.

Darcy grinned. “I’m not going to say.”

“You could tell _me_ ,” Steve offered with a sly grin as he stepped up to the two of them.

“Yeah? Would you make it worth my while?” She gave him a lascivious grin, laying it on thick, raising her eyebrows a few times for emphasis. She turned, laughing, feeling a more like herself. Maybe she’d actually be able to move past the embarrassment from the art studio after all. “The tub’s this way.”

Steve rushed across campus; he’d gotten so caught up in trying to finish his piece of Darcy and Natasha that there was no way he’d be able to grab food before his next class. As it was, he’d be lucky if he got there in time. He briefly entertained the thought of Using so make it so he didn’t have to rush, but the closer he got to his birthday, the less he liked the idea of Using. Everything was already in flux, the less he had to worry about the consequences, the better.

Cutting across the quad, making up time as much as he could, Steve had been distracted by a flock of geese flying overhead. He slowed to watch them, hearing them bugle above, following them until the red-brick buildings stole them from sight. He saw a flash of dark hair, familiar even at this distance, and smiled when he recognized the line of Bucky’s body. 

His best friend had his foot on a bench, leaning in and smiling at a blonde woman, who was looking up at him with stars in her eyes. Steve knew what they felt like now, those eyes focusing on him, and he couldn’t help the small stab of jealousy as he watched them across the quad. He jumped when he heard a call of _’On your left!’_ from a biker, quickly moving out of the way so he could pass. Steve’s eyes flicked back to where Bucky and the woman had been, frowning when he found the bench empty.

Steve’s eyes flicked from person to person but didn’t see them anywhere. Sighing, he hitched his bag further up his shoulder, the frown on his face deepening as he glanced at his watch. If he rushed, _really rushed_ , he’d be able to make it in the nick of time. He propelled himself forward, ignoring the small voice in his head that wondered who Bucky’d been talking to and why he’d looked so comfortable with her.

Steve stormed into his room after his life drawing class, covered in eraser leftovers and stomach growling. _Damn it_ but he was always hungry now. He threw his bag onto the floor, and dug in the small dorm fridge, looking for something - _anything_ \- to shove in his face before dinner that night.

“Yes!” He found leftover pizza. Not even waiting to heat it up, he took a large bite, almost moaning as he chewed. He settled onto the floor, enjoying the cool tile and that classes were over for the week.

“I thought you might have gotten started without me,” Bucky said as he walked in the open door. 

Steve shook his head, still chewing. “You cannot fill me the way pizza does.” He thought Bucky was wearing something different from when Steve had seen him in the afternoon, but that wasn’t surprising, since it looked like he had been exercising. 

Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but so many things came to mind that he ended up just laughing. Sometimes Steve really had no idea how the words coming out his mouth could be taken. That, or the punk _liked_ it when he said dirty things just so he could watch the expressions he caused. He sat on the bed, raising an eyebrow at Steve as he practically inhaled the pizza slice and reached for another. “I remember being that hungry. Doesn’t seem like you’ll ever have enough.”

Steve smirked at Bucky. He had known exactly what he was saying, and delighted in Bucky’s reaction. Not that they’d done that...yet. “Blah blah, energy for blah,” he said as he finished the second piece. _There_. That should hold him until dinner. He hauled himself up on the bed next to Bucky, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Hi.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Bucky said, cupping Steve’s cheek, kissing him a little longer. It was still a thrill, getting to kiss Steve whenever he wanted. He pulled back with a smile, not wanting to break the contact but needing to change into clean clothes after his run. “What are your plans for the rest of the night? Studying?”

Steve nodded in response, repressing a shiver. He was still feeling off balance from earlier. He’d seen the easy way Bucky had been talking with the blonde woman, the way he smiled down at her. Bucky could have anyone he wanted, and Steve… well. There hadn’t been much of anyone in that way, period.

“Hopefully having dinner with my guy,” he said, biting his lower lip with uncertainty. Was this really the time to bring this up? Was this something that didn’t have to be said aloud? No. Steve wanted Bucky to know, to _understand_ that there’d never been someone like him, not with this depth of emotion. Everyone else paled in comparison. “You know there isn’t anyone else, right? Hasn’t been for a while.”

Bucky had just pulled his t-shirt over his head when Steve spoke. He turned, his head cocking to the side at the words. He tossed the sweaty shirt to the pile of dirty laundry in the corner. “Anyone else? For what?” It took him a minute, but the way Steve was looking at him spoke volumes. “Oh. Anyone _else_ ,” he repeated. Bucky wasn’t sure why his mouth had gone dry all of a sudden. Forgetting his need for a shower, Bucky crossed the room and sat next to Steve on the bed. “I know. No one’s even come close for me, either. Not against you.”

Steve knew, without any shred of a doubt, that he was Bucky’s best friend. Nothing would change that. But this... this was different, and he was having a hard time putting this feeling into words. Steve shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. Well it is, but…” He sighed, burrowing his head into Bucky’s shoulder, trying to ignore the bare skin and sweat. “This is so damn stupid. I mean, me and you, exclusively. Just us. Together. No one else. Like… you’d be my boyfriend?”

Bucky knew Steve couldn’t see his raised eyebrows, not with his head tucked down as it was. He blinked several times. He knew this was a conversation that needed to happen, words that needed to be said aloud, but it all seemed a bit silly. He was Steve’s. Steve was his. He brought his hand under Steve’s chin, forcing him to look up. “Only if you’ll be mine.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I see the way people look at you, Buck,” Steve whispered, little gnarls of jealousy twisting in his stomach. “This... this is so fucking awesome, ya know? And it’s not weird, or awkward or funny. It just fits.” The words all came out in a jumble, and Steve held on to the arm holding him up. He looked into Bucky’s face, searching. He didn’t know for what, some kind of confirmation that this wasn’t a dream? “I keep thinking I’m going to just wake up, and you’ll be snoring on your side of the room and this was all a goddamn dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” Bucky assured him, “and you’re not sleeping.” He glanced upward when the lights flickered just a little. Heavy emotions always made things a little twitchy, especially the closer they got to their birthday. This was heavy. Very heavy.

Bucky shifted, moving to kneel on the floor in front of Steve, making his face show how genuine and sincere his words were. “You are the only man I have ever loved. You’re my best friend. My life wouldn’t be worth it if you weren’t at my side. I don’t want anyone but you. If that means I’m your boyfriend, then you can call me whatever you want.”

Steve shrugged one shoulder. “I certainly can’t go around introducing you as my ‘super hot best friend slash lover who gives the best damn head and keeps my feet warm and aren’t you jealous, bitches, he’s all mine.’ It’s a bit of a mouthful.”

Laughing, Bucky leaned forward to press his lips to Steve’s. He shook his head, eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Yeah, that’s a bit much. But I’d love to see you say that in front of Sam and Clint. I can’t even imagine. I think Clint would get the vapors and faint.” He stood, fingers trailing into Steve’s hair. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before. Bucky looked longingly at Steve, wishing there was a shower _right there_ instead of down the hall. Or one they _didn’t_ have to share with the whole floor.

“So. Dinner. Let me shower and we’ll see if I can fill you up. I’ll try extra hard.”

Steve tugged on Bucky’s hand, pulling himself up. He kissed the end of Bucky’s nose, his forehead, and moved to behind his ear. “I love you, too, jerk,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Bucky. He didn’t care that the other man was sweaty. The fact that he had managed to form coherent words with Bucky bare chested was a feat in and of itself. “Don’t know why you’re bothering to head to the shower when you’re just going to get all sweaty again.” 

Bucky’s eyes darkened at Steve’s words and proximity, letting his body show much he enjoyed the man pressed against him. It didn’t take long until he was hard and ready, his gym shorts not doing much to hide anything. “Is that a promise?”

Suddenly, they were pressed skin to skin, heat rolling off of Steve, eyes black with hints of red around the edges. He hadn’t consciously taken off their clothing, but Steve was beyond caring. His hands wandered Bucky’s torso, tracing the lines of lean muscles, feeling the contrast between smooth skin and scars that told the story of his childhood. He loved the crispness of the hair on Bucky’s chest, his hands following the line up until his palms brushed against Bucky’s nipples. He nipped along the sharp line of Bucky’s jaw, until he replaced his hands with his mouth. His dick twitched at Bucky’s sharp inhale. 

Bucky was certain he would never get used to the feeling of Steve’s body on his, or the fact that he could touch every piece of him without worry. It felt warmer in the dorm room and Bucky knew it had nothing to do with the heat in the building. The hairs on his body stood on end as Steve moved his mouth down, Bucky tangling fingers in the blond’s hair. He pulled softly, just enough to show Steve that he was happy with what was happening.

Steve met Bucky’s eyes with a grin, pushing the other man down to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Buck,” Steve said against Bucky’s lips, nipping and then soothing with his tongue. He didn’t give Bucky time to respond as he dropped to his knees between Bucky’s spread legs. Steve followed the line of hair down Bucky’s lean stomach, stopping to nuzzle his nose into Bucky’s belly button. His chin bumped into Bucky, already fully hard, and Steve used his hand to gently push Bucky’s cock down and away from his body. 

Steve took his time with Bucky, biting marks into his torso and inner thighs, just missing his darkening erection and balls. Steve left the marks so that he would know Bucky was his, that this was real. Bucky’s hand tugged in Steve’s hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to grab his attention.

“I thought you were gonna - _oh, fuck, Steve_ ,” he gasped as Steve wrapped his lips around Bucky’s cock and took him down as far as he could. 

Steve moaned at the taste of skin and sweat, and the heavy feel of Bucky’s dick on his tongue. He brought the hand not holding Bucky’s hip to wrap at the base, his mouth meeting the top of his hand. Slowly, _slowly_ , he brought his lips back up, hand following. He repeated this motion, up and down, up and down, not noticing the bits of sparks around the room, or the lights dimming. 

Whatever doubts Steve might have had about Bucky being his was gone as his name - _Steve Steve Steve_ \- fell from Bucky’s lips, over and over and over. Whether it was the weight of their earlier conversation, or the Power coursing through the small room, Bucky couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the man in front of him.

Bucky pulled reflexively at Steve’s hair when his tongue flicked _just right_ , his head falling backward, a gasp tearing from his throat. Another flick made Bucky look forward, eyes hungry with the beauty of Steve between his legs, hand wrapped around his cock, gazing upward so their eyes connected.

“ _Don’t stop_!”

 _I love watching you watch me. You don’t know how beautiful you are when you’re so desperate like this. God, you could fuck my face and I would let you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Love holding my face still with your hands as you fucked into me. I love the way you taste and the way you feel on my tongue. I love you. I love you, Iloveyou_ , Steve sent. _I could almost come just from hearing you moan my name. Will you come for me? Make me yours?_

He sped up his hand, mouth and tongue moving over Bucky, tasting the sweet saltiness of his precome. 

_I love you so much Bucky. Come for me, please?_

With Steve’s mouth wrapped around him and his whispered voice in his head, Bucky cried out, surrounded by Steve in every way. His hips moved by themselves, pumping into Steve’s mouth and hand, almost mad with tension. He looked down at Steve one more time, mouth parting at the view before he crashed, coming with Steve’s name on his lips as his eyes screwed shut, his senses bombarded and overwhelmed.

Steve swallowed, the taste of Bucky flooding his mouth, Bucky’s hands pulling on his hair as he rode the wave of orgasm to completion. Gaze looking up, Steve was still amazed that he was able to see the sheen of sweat and rapture on Bucky’s face, even more that he’d been the one to cause that expression.

Bucky’s hips twitched as he came down, finally letting his head hang, spent. His breathing was labored and it took several moments for his eyes to open. When they did, he knew the grin on his face was stupid and large, but it was matched by the look on Steve’s face, looking up at him. The look - that maybe heaven was right there in front of you - might have scared him to see on someone else’s face. On Steve? It was everything.

Steve jumped, startled when a pound sounded at the door. It was joined by the sharp sound of a siren and flashing lights.

As if coming out of a haze, Bucky looked up at the fire alarm light in the room as it strobed. He turned wide eyes back to Steve as another bang hit the door. 

“FIRE ALARM! OUT OF THE BUILDING!”

“Oh, shit,” Steve giggled. He actually giggled. He stood up, pressing his own cock against himself, and helped Bucky to his feet. 

“Clothes. We need clothes. Ha. Fuck.”

He threw Bucky’s shorts back at him then slipped on his pajama bottoms and his class t-shirt. They snickered and laughed as they made their way down the stairs and outside to stand in the twilight with the other students streaming out of the dorm. Steve managed to catch the eye of their RA, making sure the man knew they’d gotten out safely, before pulling Bucky to the back corner of the dorm building. 

Steve tugged Bucky to him, his back hitting the old brick. Steve’s hand was already on his cock, stroking hard and slow. “See what you do to me?” His last word ended with a gasp. He looked Bucky directly in the eye as his hand kept moving and his hips rolled with each downward thrust. 

A knowing smirk turned Bucky’s mouth, his eyes hooded and dark as they looked at the Steve’s rosy-cheeks. The pajama bottoms were easily bypassed, sagging down Steve’s hips without much work. It didn’t take much to ensure they wouldn’t be disturbed, just an errant thought, as Bucky’s fingers lifted the bottom of Steve’s shirt. The early fall night was crisp, but the heat pouring from Steve was enough to keep them both warm.

Bucky’s left hand moved up and down the length of Steve, his right trailing finger tips under the soft cotton, circling one of Steve’s nipples as Bucky fell to his knees in the grass.

His pupils were dilated as he looked up the line of Steve’s body, his lips next to but not touching, not yet. In his peripheral vision he saw two students walk by them, completely unaware of what was happening. The thrill of this, the readiness and reaction in Steve’s body, while people were so near? It was almost mind numbing. He felt a slight surge of electricity as Steve noticed them as well.

He was so sensitive and Steve could feel _everything_ ; the grass at his heels, the brick scraping his back, Bucky’s hot breath hovering over his skin. The thought that someone could catch them like this made a wave of emotions well through Steve. Want and desire. Jealousy and love and pride. They were all there inside. When Bucky licked a long stripe from base to tip, Steve bit his lip to keep from moaning. It wasn’t enough. 

“Buck. Buck. Please. I’m so _close_ ,” he whined.

That breathiness in Steve’s voice made Bucky’s stomach flutter with satisfaction. He’d barely even touched his lips to Steve’s cock before his fingers were in Bucky’s hair, tugging with need and almost frenzy. Bucky knew it wouldn’t take long, but he took his time, moving slowly, torturously.

_God, I can’t even tell you how sexy you are. Cheeks flushed and panting. Everything I’ve ever wanted. Gorgeous._

Taking as much of Steve as he could, Bucky moved now with purpose. He wanted Steve to fall apart, again and again.

Steve felt the tightening at the base of his spine that signalled he was going to come, and he tapped the side of Bucky’s cheek in warning. The other man didn’t seem to mind, and kept at his task, increasing his speed and moving up and down with enthusiasm. With one final flick of Bucky’s tongue, everything went white, and Steve bit the inside of his arm to keep from screaming.

He tried to keep his hips from moving, from slamming into Bucky’s mouth, but no one had made him feel like this. Pulling Bucky up, Steve crashed their mouths together, pouring everything he felt into it. Words couldn’t adequately describe what Bucky was to him. His everything, his constant, his compass.

It took everything he had not to scratch Steve’s back into the bricks, but Bucky couldn’t help it. He could feel the gravity of this man pulling him in and holding him captive. It was useless to try and fight gravity, and Steve was Bucky’s sun and stars, moon and planets. He pulled on Steve’s hair sharply, pulling his head back, leaving the long line of his neck open for Bucky’s lips and tongue to travel.

He came up for air, breathing hard, forehead pressed to Steve’s. They were both sweaty, bodies sated and humming with energy. “More than just my boyfriend, punk. Know that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


	11. Fall Into Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Be slow to fall into friendship; but when thou art in, continue firm & constant._ – **Socrates**
> 
> Darcy spends some time learning about the boys’ friendship and an outing is planned for extra credit

**Darcy:** _[Picture of Darcy wearing a grey hooded cowl]_  
 **Jane:** _It’s supposed to be red._  
 **Darcy:** _They didn’t have red._  
 **Jane:** _I’m talking about the Handmaids Tale_  
 **Darcy:** _The What?_  
 **Jane:** _I hate you._

Darcy’d done her best to allow time between her classes. First semester of freshman year she’d thought fifteen minutes was _more_ than enough time to get from one class to the next.

 _God_ , had she’d been so naive.

Since then she’d been scheduling _at least_ forty-five minutes or more; any shorter and she’d still have to rush. Any longer and she’d most likely just blow off the next class and go home. It was a careful, fragile balance, but Darcy thought she’d been pretty successful so far.

Her longest break (an hour and a half) came between her Lit class and International Relations in the Cyber Age. Taking the time to enjoy the fall day, she’d scoped out a spot underneath one of the giant trees in the main quad. There were leaves on the ground, but the grass was still soft and vibrant. She’d spread out, reading while her earbuds blasted the type of music Jane would call ‘mass produced and overplayed nonsense.’ All Darcy knew was that it had a beat and made her want to dance.

She looked up in alarm when someone grabbed her headphone cord and pulled it from one ear. “Hey!” Her indignant look turned to an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes. “Barton, I’m telling you, one day you’re going to do that and I’m going to have my taser out before you even know what’s happening.”

“Oh, that I’d pay to see,” Sam said, coming around the tree from the other side, giving her a wide smile. They both took up spots near her, Sam sitting with his legs stretched out and back against the bark, Clint flopping onto his side in the grass.

“So, whatcha doing, Darcy my dove?” Clint asked, squeezing the toe of her shoe, “Not ruining this perfectly good day with studying, I hope?”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at his amused expression. “ _Some_ of us actually do the assigned reading before class, Barton.”

Clint just shrugged. He did all right, if his grades were any indication.

“Where are your usual sidekicks?” Sam asked. Steve and Bucky were even more attached at the hip than usual (and probably attached at several other parts as well), but when they _weren’t_ solo, more often than not Darcy was with them, too. He and Clint had already had Looks about it, ending with rolling eyes and knowing smiles; both of them read like a book, neither of them were sneaky. 

“Classes,” Darcy said with a shrug. She decided to stop pretending she was going to get any reading done now that the boys where there. “Steve’s holed up in the studio, and Bucky has some weird engineering thing he’s working on. He started in on robotics and algorithms and I just glazed over. They said they’d be around for movie night, though.” 

Sam shared a look with Clint, both of them rolling their eyes in sync. “Some things never change.”

“How’s that?” Darcy asked, stuffing her textbook in her bag and lifting her arms above her head, hearing several cracks as her spine straightened again. 

“Oh, just stuff we did as kids,” Sam answered with a wave of his hand, “Steve always threw himself into whatever he was working on. Barnes does things to keep his hands busy.”

“Not that he needs an excuse to do that anymore. _Plenty_ for his hands to do now.” Clint wiggled his fingers, smiling at the look Sam threw his way. 

“He does tend to fidget,” Darcy commented, decidedly choosing _not_ to buy into Clint’s words, knowing he was looking for a reaction. She’d been working really hard at not blushing when thinking about what she’d walked in on at the art studio, and she wasn’t going to let the blond derail her progress. “You know, I’ve tried to picture you four in elementary school and it’s hard to do. Which one of you had the bowl cut? Someone _always_ had a bowl cut. Oh! Or a rat tail!”

Sam laughed, eyes sliding to look in Clint’s direction. “Barton’s had some pretty unfortunate hair styles over the years.”

“Speak for yourself, Wilson. I’ve snagged the eyes of a Russian Goddess so I’m obviously not doing that bad.”

“Touche,” Sam conceded with a small nod.

Darcy rolled her eyes at both boys, wrapping her earbuds up then shoving them in her bag, too. Neither Sam nor Clint seemed to be in a rush, and she decided to take advantage and ask some of the questions she hadn’t gotten to yet. They were around each other so much but she didn’t really know their history, and it was something she _wanted_ to know. “Did you all grow up together from the beginning?”

Sam shook his head, ripping a crunchy leaf apart. “Bucky’s family has been here since the 1600s. He’s a Son of the Revolution and what not. Steve’s Ma came over from Ireland when she was a teenager and met his dad here. My dad took a job up here, so we left DC when I was... 10, maybe?” Sam could hardly remember a time when he wasn’t with the boys, everything before fifth grade like a fog. As cliched as it sounded, his life didn’t really start until he met Clint, Bucky, and Steve.

“And I hail from the _mighty plains of Iowa_ ,” Clint finished, eyes wide, arm making a sweep and grand gesture, sarcasm dripping in his tone, “where the corn grows and... not much else.” 

“I’m imagining you in denim overalls,” Darcy said to Clint with a crinkled nose, eyes filled with amusement. “The only time I’ve been through Iowa is driving through it to get to someplace else.”

“That’s the best memory to have of the state, believe me. Lots of pigs. Actual pigs. Pink ones.” Clint grabbed a piece of grass and cupped it in his hands. “Anyway, we all ended up in Mrs. Fischer’s fifth grade class. And thus our great journey began.” He bought his hands to his mouth and blew into them, causing the grass to vibrate and whistle.

Laughing, Darcy, leaned back against the tree. “Did any of you play sports?”

“Clint and I played soccer. Barnes swam. Steve had really bad asthma so he couldn’t really do anything physically taxing.”

Clint nodded. “But he was there, every game, shouting like a crazy person and doodling in his sketchbooks. Sad, but he just couldn’t seem to get my halo right.”

“You’re an ass,” Sam said, his leg kicking out in the other man’s direction. Clint dodged it, winking at Sam in response before laying back on the grass. Sam turned back to Darcy, reaching out to squeeze her knee. “How about you, Darce?”

Darcy snorted in amusement. “Does it _look_ like I did any type of sports? No. My sport was reading. My mom’s a librarian. She’s the one that got me the job on campus with her bookish connections.”

“Does that mean you get to see all the ghosts at night in the dusty old stacks? And didn’t a freshman go missing at the beginning of the semester from the library?” Clint asked.

Darcy frowned. “No ghosts, _yet_ , but I’m still holding out hope. The missing student… Jane says there’s actually been several. There were school emails going out about it, talking about keeping your eyes open for anything unusual. It’s a college campus. Almost _everything_ is unusual. It’s still scary, though.”

Sam sat up a little straighter, dark eyes swinging toward Darcy with concern. He’d only heard of two girls going missing, which was bad enough, but if there were more... “But you’re staying safe?” 

Darcy wrinkled her nose, appreciating the careful look Sam was directing to her. She’d discovered pretty quickly that he took his ‘older brother’ type duties very seriously, and somewhere along the line she’d become a part of his circle of care. “Yeah, I promise. I haven’t been working late because of classes, but when I _did_ have to work late, Grant usually walked me home.”

“Grant?” Clint sat up from his prone position, eyes suddenly alert and focused.

 _Shit_. Darcy shrugged her shoulders, trying to play it off like it was nothing. “Grant Ward. He’s... this guy. We’ve only gone on a couple dates.”

“You hear that, Sammy?” Clint’s hand reached out and slapped at Sam’s leg. “A _couple_ dates! Sammy!”

“I heard her,” Sam answered with a roll of his eyes. He took in Darcy’s demeanor, the way she acted like it was nothing as she packed up the rest of her stuff. “So when do we get to meet this guy?”

Sighing, Darcy tried to think of something to say that would make them forget the whole thing. After what’d happened during their last date, she didn’t think Grant would want to see her again anyway. It wasn’t a big deal, which was the whole reason she’d not said anything to the boys in the first place. She studiously ignored the voice in the back of her head that asked if that was the _real_ reason she hadn’t told them about him. “Our last date... didn’t go that well. so you might not get to.”

“His loss,” Clint said with feeling. 

When Darcy looked up, hearing the sincerity in Clint’s voice and seeing it reflected in his eyes, she smiled warmly. She’d never really had a big group of friends, much less a gaggle of amazingly caring boys, and she found their protective tendencies endearing. “Thanks. I’ve got to head to class, but thanks for making my down time fly by. I’ll bake a batch of cookies to whichever of you delivers the most embarrassing grade school pictures!”

They watched her sling her bag over her shoulder and head across the quad toward the Literature building. Clint glared in Sam’s direction. “Secret boyfriend?”

“Not a boyfriend,” Sam corrected, lips turning downward. “And it might be over.”

“If it isn’t?”

“Then we make sure he’s good enough.”

“And if he’s not?”

“Then you annoy him to death.”

“ _Excellent._ ”

“Hey!” Darcy pulled her hand back, holding it to her chest as she looked at Jane, mouth agape and eyes wide. “ _Janey!_ ”

“The dumplings are mine and you know it, Lewis. I will _end_ you,” came the growl as Jane pulled the full plate of food toward herself without breaking eye contact.

Darcy glared at her best friend but reached for the orange chicken. “Ugh. Fine, _hangry_ , I’ll let you have them. But you should know that I can take you down if push came to shove.”

Jane looked at her, face unimpressed, a single dark eyebrow raising. “I bite.”

“I pull hair.”

“I pinch.”

“Yeah, like a little _bitch_.” 

The gasp from Jane made Darcy laugh and she fell back onto the couch with a smile. It had been _ages_ since she and Jane had gotten to hang out, girl-bro to girl-bro. They used to do this all the time, get food and watch terrible TV shows or the latest rom-com movie, though they never paid much attention to the TV. Instead, they’d talked about everything else. Life. School. Boys. 

Lately, however, they’d both been so busy. Jane with her TAing, Darcy with her three jobs and full class schedule. It didn’t help that Darcy barely managed four hours of sleep each night, her body quickly adjusting to the lack of sleep and steady fuel of caffeine. If you were going to run yourself ragged, college was the place and time to do it, right?

Darcy turned onto her side on the couch, elbow bending so she could look at Jane. “So you’re good? It’s all good?”

Jane kept eating, but Darcy noticed the pink flush to her friend’s cheeks. “Yeah. It is.”

Darcy grabbed a pillow and swung it half-heartedly in Jane’s direction. “Ugh! I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t,” Jane said, smiling to herself. When she glanced up to see Darcy’s face, she sobered a bit. It was clear her friend was trying her best to appear happy and carefree, but Jane knew Darcy better than that. She set her chopsticks aside, pinning Darcy with a concerned look. “Darcy, what’s going on with you lately? Did something happen with Grant?”

Darcy should have known better than to assume she’d be able to convince Jane she was fine. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t _not_ fine, she was just…disappointed in how she felt about it all. She sighed heavily and flopped back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “He’s texted a few times. He wants to take me out again, even _after_ the dumpster fire that was our last date. But... I don’t know if I want to.”

“Why not?” Deciding she was done, Jane pushed the plate of dumplings away and wiped her hand on a napkin. “You said he was a gentleman. And a pretty good kisser.”

“I’m pretty sure the ‘good kisser’ thing was just mentioned off-handedly -”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jane interjected.

“But he was. Is. Both of those things. He was nice, and kind, and listened to my stories. And his back muscles? Ugh. Shut up. But when he tried to go further… I stopped.”

Jane, sitting on the floor near the coffee table, pulled her knees to her chest and looked at her Darcy with a frown. “Do you know why? It’s not like you’ve never...”

At Jane’s waving gesture, Darcy snorted. “Yes, thank you. No, he’s not my first but I’ve thought about it a ton, and.. I’m not really sure why. There are things I like about him, sure. As I said before, his back muscles are ridiculous. He opens doors for me. Always brings me flowers. But there are a few things that are definite turn off, too. For example, he lives with thirty other guys who have names like Hambone and Dog Meat.”

“Ew,” Jane said, nose crinkling.

“Yeah. I know that’s all superficial stuff that doesn’t really matter, but I guess.... I guess I just don’t see a future with him.”

“So?” 

Darcy swiveled her head to look at her friend, her normally irrationally-rational friend. “What do you mean ‘so’?”

“I _mean_ ,” Jane started, sitting straighter as she looked at her best friend, “we’re in our twenties, our _early_ twenties. This is the time to make mistakes, to try things you wouldn’t do normally. Drink the horrible foamy beer, throw up in an alley, make out with a random stranger in a bar, waste money on stupid things. Make mistakes.”

Darcy looked at Jane incredulously. “Who _are_ you right now? What happened to my friend who has ten different bottles of hand sanitizer hidden around ‘just in case’ something happens?”

“There’s one in the couch.” Jane paused while Darcy dug into the cushions, revealing the small gel container with a cry of accomplishment. “Look, Darcy, you are my best friend. I want you to annoy me more than I want anyone else to annoy me, but if you’re not happy, you need to make a change. As my father would say: _Suck it up, Buttercup. Grab life by the cojones._ ”

Imagining Jane’s dad saying that phrase made Darcy smile. Jane and her father could not be any different, but in the best way possible. When Jane lifted her bottle of water to her lips, Darcy shook her head. “‘Never underestimate the size of my cojones’,” she quoted, grinning when Jane recognized the phrase from one of their favorite shows.

Jane leaned forward onto the coffee table, putting her chin in her hand as she blinked at her friend. “Give Grant another shot. If it’s not doing it for you, then so be it. But you should at least give it a chance. Maybe he’ll surprise you. Oh! You should bring him to the thing!”

Darcy blinked. “What thing?”

“The _thing_ , the class thing. Thor -” Jane ignored the snort from Darcy at the mention of the professor, “- is giving extra credit if you go to the Mark Twain Museum fundraiser. Ask Grant if he’d go with you.”

Darcy frowned, clutching a pillow and hugging it to her chest. It’s not like she _needed_ the extra credit, but she knew a few people who could. “You know, I think Clint’s going to it.”

“Good. He could use it.”

A soft gasp came from the couch. “TA Foster! I thought there was such a thing as TA-Student privilege!”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure it’s a thing.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s not. But in any case, it’s an idea. It’s up to you. But we’ll be dressed pretty and there might be dancing. Oh! And a silent auction!”

It made Darcy laugh, how excited the idea of silent auctions made her friend. She guessed it was the competitiveness that called out to the researcher. “I guess I could ask him,” Darcy relented with a shrug. She hadn’t needed to get super dressed up since her cousin’s wedding a few years ago. There weren’t many black-tie affairs in her life that required that level of work. At least it would break up the monotony of work and classes. 

Mind made up, she reached for her phone.

**Darcy:** _Hey. So we have a thing for my a history class. It’s a fundraiser thing at the Mark Twain Museum. Dresses, dancing, the whole shebang. That sound like your kind of thing?_

Grant’s reply came about an hour later.

**Grant:** _I could be convinced._

Darcy held the screen out for Jane to read. Jane gave her a thumbs up and turned back to her textbook to continue highlighting what looked like an entire page.

**Darcy:** _I’ll text you the details when I get home._  
 **Grant:** _Can’t wait._

“But I told _her_ that it was Ghostbusters, not Ghostbusters 2, and she still tried to argue with me about it.”

“That’s a mistake,” Sam said with a shake of his head.

“Why’s that?” Darcy watched as Steve, Bucky and Sam threw their hands in the air, their eyes impressively rolling in unison. “What?”

Steve watched Clint’s face light up as he leaned on the table. “I was a ghostbuster for Halloween eight years in a row. My comedic timing is largely based on Bill Murray’s in his seminal role as Dr. Peter Venkman. If there’s one thing in this world that I know front to back, it’s the Ghostbusters film franchise.”

Darcy nodded, sitting back in the booth, giving him a critical eye. “But the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man was _in_ the second movie, right? With the green Ooze ghost and that other guy? You know… the other guy?”

Steve watched as Clint’s eyes filled with horror, sitting back in the booth and holding a hand to his heart like it was breaking. “ _Darcy_ ,” Clint said, her name sounding like a curse word.

Steve glanced at Darcy out of the corner of his eye, sandwiched between himself and Bucky, and couldn’t help the laugh when he saw the corner of her mouth lift upward in a smirk. Of _course_ she knew the difference between the two movies, as she’d spent a lazy Sunday with him and Bucky watching the first two, as well as the new version. 

“She’s fucking with you, Clint,” Bucky said, the grin on his face wide as he threw his arm over her shoulders, squeezing the back of Steve’s neck on her other side.

Darcy’s shoulders shook with laughter as she watched the indignation flow over Clint’s face. “Sorry, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, I just had to.” She glanced down at her watch, face falling softly. “Just like I have to go now.”

The boys all made a sound of sadness as she made Steve scoot out of the booth. 

“But you just got here! I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever!”

Darcy threw her backpack over her shoulder, looking at Clint over the rim of her glasses. “I see you every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Class doesn’t count, and you know it.” Steve sighed, leaning forward on the table with his elbow. “Do you have anything going on this weekend? We can get together on Saturday?”

“I’ve got the Mark Twain house event this Saturday.” When Clint, Steve and Bucky looked at her with blank expressions, she shook her head, sharing a conspiratory look with Sam. “Jeez, they _really_ don’t listen, do they?”

Sam shook his head, sharing an exasperated eyeroll with Dacy. He waved his hand in her direction. “I’ll fill them in. You get to class.”

Darcy nodded, pulling her phone from her pocket, giving them all one more big smile. “I’ll see you boys on Thursday!”

Another round of sad noises sounded at her departure, earning a half-hearted wave over her shoulder before she disappeared out the front door. Bucky sighed, scooting closer to Steve. “What was she talking about? Mark Twain?”

“Did you know his real name was Samuel Clemens?” The three men looked at Clint with raised eyebrows. “What? I know things.”

“Obviously not _this_ thing,” Sam said as he sighed. “There’s a fundraiser at the Mark Twain house on Saturday. Black tie affair, professional dance performance. Extra credit if we show up. Jane and Odinson are going to be there, and apparently Darcy, too. I hadn’t planned on going, but we could.”

“Oooooh, I knew that! Natasha’s the one dancing. I just hadn’t put two and two together. Do we even _need_ extra credit?”

“I don’t care about the extra credit. All of us dressed up, though? _That_ I could get behind.” Bucky shook Steve’s shoulder, drawing his boyfriend’s eyes. “What do you say, punk?”

Steve nodded, a grin on his face as he thought about everyone being together in one place, something that hadn’t happened in the past few weeks due to busy schedules. “I can ask Wanda, too.” He watched a look of offense cross Sam’s face and laughed. “Okay. Fine. _You_ can ask her.”

Bucky pushed the menu away from him, grinning. “Perfect. But you’re going to need a new suit.” He watched the laughter drain from Steve’s face at the prospect. 

“If I get one now, will be it too short by Saturday?” When all three boys said ‘yes’ in unison, he shook his head. “You’re assholes, you know that?”

The answer of ‘yes’ came from Sam, Clint and Bucky in unison again. Their laughter at the middle finger Steve threw their way earned them a few glares from the other patrons.


	12. Suddenly There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: “ _Dancing with the feet is one thing, but dancing with the heart is another._ ” ― Unknown Author
> 
> As feelings rise and fall, the group enjoys a fancy night out at the Mark Twain house.

It was a matter of weeks before his twenty-first birthday and Steve could feel it in his blood. There was a humming energy around him now, a bit of electricity that slid over his skin at all times. Steve had wanted to ask Sam how he’d dealt with this all by himself since he’d been the first to Ascend, but it just hadn’t come up in conversation. They’d been so busy, all of them, and though everyone very good at texting and checking in, actually _seeing_ each other had become scarce outside of classes. Steve looked forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, where the whole gang could be together, even if it was just for the hour and half of history.

Steve missed them. His body was practically vibrating in anticipation of the night. Everyone together, having a good time. He didn’t even mind that the event was formal, not if it meant seeing his boyfriend in a suit, all straight lines with a tailored jacket. He watched Bucky try to get his hair _just right_ , reminding himself that they would need to leave soon and that they didn’t have enough time to peel the suits off each other and see how well their bodies fit together. Again.

“Settle down, punk,” Bucky said, checking his reflection one more time before turning around. “We’re not going to be late.”

“Jesus _wept_ , Buck,” Steve swore. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Bucky dressed up, but it was the first time since they’d gotten together. The dark grey suit made his eyes stand out against the tan of his face and Steve’s heart raced at the vision his boyfriend made. “Wow. Just... wow. You’re missing something, though.”

Bucky spread his arms, as if to dare Steve to prove it. One dark eyebrow went up, that shit eating smirk dancing on his lips.

Steve strode forward, grabbed Bucky by the lapels, and nipped his lower lip with his teeth. He licked the seam of Bucky’s lips, groaning when Bucky returned the kiss, hands sliding down and over the curve of Steve’s ass. The feel of Bucky against him, even through the suits they wore, settled and excited Steve at the same time.

He pulled back from the kiss, grinning. Bucky’s lips had reddened from the attention, and he had a flush high up on his cheek bones.

“Much better.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Bucky hummed, hands reaching up to push an errant piece of sunny blond hair from Steve’s forehead. “I’m already planning where that suit is going to fall when we get back here. I’m thinking right there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the floor near the door. “I don’t think it’ll be much farther than that, not the way those pants are hugging your ass.”

He reached out and slapped Steve’s ass for good measure before crossing to his dresser and pushing his wallet into the inner pocket of his jacket. “You ready? We’re meeting Sam and Clint downstairs.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s your rush?” Steve grinned at Bucky when the other man rolled his eyes. They made their way down the stairs and into the night, finding Sam and Clint waiting for them.

“My boys! You have deigned to descend from your den of iniquity to join us. My heart!” Clint exclaimed, arms held wide and a genuine smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He was in a dark suit with a deep plum shirt and matching tie; for all that Clint was a goofball and usually sloppy in his appearance, no one could argue that he didn’t clean up really well.

“That was a lot of alliteration, dude,” Sam said, jacket over his arm, tie still loose.

“Yeah, yeah. And where have _you_ been? Mr. ‘ _I’m Never Late, Christ Clint Could You Fucking Move It Already_ ’?”

“Looking this good takes time, Barton,” Bucky said, knocking his elbow into Sam as he passed him.

Steve walked up to Sam, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. At Sam’s questioning look, the blond shook his head. “I have questions for you. But not now. Later.”

Sam’s face stayed smiling, but a bit of seriousness leaked into his eyes. He could tell something was behind the blue of his friend’s eyes, but if he wasn’t ready to talk about it, it could wait. “Of course, whenever.”

“Are we doing this or not?” Clint stood with a fist on his hip, which was jutted out to the side. He overextended his leg, his pants riding up enough to see the garish neon purple socks on his feet. It looked like he was doing some sort of lunge, but they’d all gotten used to Clint’s proclivities after this many years together.

Bucky shook his head as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we’re doing this. We’re meeting the girls there?”

“Yes, but we won’t get to see much of my beautiful ballerina until after her performance. Be prepared to witness poetry in motion. But she’s mine. I know we’re brothers, but if any of you make a move on her, you will meet a violent and sticky end.”

“I’m trembling in fear,” Steve said with a smile, reaching forward to thread his fingers with Bucky as he caught up. “I think my dancing card is full anyway.”

“Damn right,” Bucky said with a soft look in Steve’s direction.

Darcy fluffed one last piece of hair, spritzed it with spray, and stood back to take in her appearance.

“It’s too much. It’s way too much. Is it too much, Janey?”

Jane, whose head had been cocked to the side and staring, blinked up at Darcy’s words. “Sorry, what? I was distracted by your tits.”

“Thanks,” Darcy replied dryly, reaching out to push Jane’s shoulder.

“I mean, they’re a very _good_ distraction, your tits. There’s just so much of them to look at. I want to look away, but I can’t seem to. It’s like a car accident. A tit car accident.”

“Here, I’ll get rid of the distraction,” Darcy said as she grabbed the black cardigan with red flowers she’d set nearby. She shrugged into it and pulled it on; there wasn’t _much_ she could really do when it came to the dress and the way it displayed her chest, but she could cover up a bit. She’d forgotten how pale she was until she’d pulled the crimson dress on, but that was another thing she had no power over. 

She blamed her bubbe.

“Aw…” Jane stuck out her lower lip in mock sadness when Darcy’s good were no longer on display before holding out a necklace for consideration. “This one?”

Darcy took it, holding it up to the dress. “Eh… maybe gold? I don’t wear red a lot, but gold goes better with it, I think.” She watched Jane dig through her jewelry box, making a small sound of triumph when she found one she thought would work. Grabbing it, Darcy turned to look in the mirror, holding it up. Satisfied, she clasped it and turned back to her best friend. “Yeah?”

Jane nodded as she stood, giving Darcy a long look that ended with a satisfied grin. “They’re going to flip.”

“Grant? Yeah. I know. I’m surprised he even agreed to go, after what happened last time. Or what _didn’t_ happen.”

Ignoring how Darcy’d mistaken _who_ Jane’d been referring to, deciding to allow her friend to live in obliviousness, Jane grabbed her own coat and pulled it on. “Well, I have to head there now to help them set up. Are you good?”

Darcy nodded toward her friend, shoulders lifting and falling with a large sigh. “I still wish you’d have worn something a little more… flashy. Professor Hottie with the Body should be able to see _your_ tits.”

“Yeah, all B cups of them?” Jane frowned in Darcy’s direction. “This a _work_ event for me. A simple black dress is fine.”

“Well at least fluff them up a little bit,” Darcy said, hands reaching out to cup and push up her friend’s chest. She let out a peal of laughter when Jane slapped at her hands. “Hey, I’m just looking out for the puppies. I better not be the only one who gropes you tonight, Janey!”

She watched Jane glare over her shoulder as she made her way toward the door to Darcy’s room. Darcy heard Jane speak to someone in the hallway before a small knocking sound came from the open door. “Come in!”

“I hope you’re not inviting any old strange man into your dorm room? Especially not with you looking like _that_ ,” Grant greeted Darcy from the door, a glass vase of white roses in his hand and that charming smile of his on his lips. “You’re absolutely radiant, Darcy. Simply stunning.” 

He’d always known she had that body under her shapeless sweaters, and it appeared she’d finally be showing it off tonight. Even more, she was going to be on _his_ arm for the evening, right where she belonged.

Darcy’s hands wrapped around the vase and she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She laughed when she pulled back, using her thumb to erase the bit of red lipstick that had been transferred to his skin. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Grant.”

“Well, I remembered last time that you didn’t have a vase to put flowers in, and as I expect to be getting them for you often, I thought it’d be nice to have a proper way for you to display them.”

Unable to fault his logic, Darcy smiled at his words and predictions of future flowers. It appeared he had gotten over the awkwardness of their last date and she was more than willing to do the same. “Well, thank you, in any case. They’re beautiful.”

“Not when they’re being compared to you,” he said, sliding a bit further into the room. Ward lifted both hands to cup her cheeks, pressing his body against hers. He smiled down at her, seeing the small spark of attraction light her eyes before his mouth sought hers. She responded in kind, lips parting as he deepened the kiss. They weren’t late - he was _never_ late - and he wasn’t worried about spending a little time in her room. 

Darcy tried not to melt into him, but being as done up as she was, and him looking at delicious as he did in his suit… it wasn’t hard to enjoy his body pressed against hers.

Ward pulled back, still smiling. “What a lovely hello.” He kissed the tip of Darcy’s nose, chuckling when the nose in question wrinkled. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he wiped her nose off, and then his mouth. He offered Darcy his arm. “Shall we? I parked my car at the front of the building in front of the fire hydrant so you wouldn’t have to trek across to the parking lot.”

Darcy threaded her arm through his, grabbing her clutch on the way out. “What a gentleman.”

She spotted his black BMW where he said it’d be, grinning when he ran ahead to open the door for her. Ward made sure her dress was in place before shutting the door and crossing to the driver’s side. Darcy looked around in surprise. As soon as the door had closed, it was like the entire car had gone quiet. She could see people laughing as they walked by, but heard nothing. That was some damn good noise cancellation.

She smiled as Ward entered, turning the key, looking over at her, that charming smile of his on his lips. He reached out and threaded his fingers with hers and lifted so he could press his lips to the back of her hand. “I can’t wait to show you off.”

Steve glanced over at Clint, watching his friend bounce on his feet with barely contained energy. It was surprising; for as much as Clint could be excited, even flippant from time to time, Steve’d never seen the blond _nervous_ like he was in the cool night air. It was interesting to see what Natasha was pulling from him, and Steve reminded himself to learn her secrets.

When he looked up at the Mark Twain house and museum, Bucky couldn’t help feeling impressed. The house looked like it’d been frozen in time, impossibly large, covered in red brick and surrounded on all sides by an outdoor porch. It instantly reminded him of the late 1800s. He wasn’t sure if that’s when it’d actually been built, but it was as good a guess as any. 

Bucky moved up next to Steve, throwing an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Not that I mind, Sammy, but remind me why we’re here?”

“Extra credit,” Sam answered with a roll of his eyes. He swore, _none_ of them listened. “Attend fundraiser, get credit toward the final project. We said this before. Several times. You need to start listening, man.”

“Ahhh,” Bucky said, pointing in Sam’s direction with a large grin, “ _now_ I remember.”

“Don’t forget the open bar and not nearly enough foo- holy fucking hell. Boys. _Boys_!” Sam reached out to grab Steve’s arm and nodded his head. 

Bucky’s gaze following their eyes toward the main entrance. He stared, his mouth falling open, the expression on his face as close to _gobsmacked_ as it could get, a warm thread of desire curling in his stomach.

“What is your- _holy shit_ ,” Clint swore as he looked in the same direction as the others.

Darcy was being led into the building on the arm of some guy who was wearing an actual tux. She was a vision in fiery crimson, looking like the Greek goddess of vengeance, pleats and tucks of flowing fabric skimming her figure. Her hair cascaded down her back in curls, her skin flushed and looking absolutely perfect.

“She’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. She looks like she’s stepped out of a painting. Stunning.”

“I’d pretend my feelings were hurt, Rogers, if I didn’t feel the same damn way,” Bucky replied, voice a bit breathier than normal as he continued to stare. 

Steve’s eyes widened at Bucky’s comment, not realizing he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. He could feel the heat rush to his cheeks, though he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment for his words, or from the way his chest had tightened upon seeing Darcy.

“Is that _our_ Darcy? Has she _always_ looked like that? Did we know she had that dress?” Clint asked, sharing a devious expression with Sam behind Steve and Bucky’s backs. The older man rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend couldn’t help himself from needling the two. “Who’s she with? Who’s that guy? Do we know him?”

It took several seconds for Bucky to process Clint’s questions. When the streetlamp above them flickered, Bucky cast a look in Steve’s direction, watching as his boyfriend continued to stare. “ _Do_ we? Know who that is, I mean?”

“Jane talked about him once. Warrant? Something like that,” Steve answered, his eyes on Darcy until she entered the house and was lost from sight. He turned his gaze back Bucky, trying to temper the wave of attraction that had crested inside of him at just the sight of her. Reaching out, Steve thread his fingers with Bucky’s.

“I swear nobody listens,” Sam admonished the group, throwing his hands in the air, “his name is Grant Ward, he’s the vice president of his frat, and they’ve been dating for a couple of months. Jane’s mentioned it _several_ times.” He paused, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Now that I think of it, you might not have been there when she talked about it. You’ve kinda had something dominating your attention lately.” He laughed and started toward the entrance.

“ _Bow chicka bow bow_ ,” Clint sang, moving to catch up with Sam.

Steve narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like the way seeing Darcy with some guy made him feel. He could tell Bucky was thinking the same thing. He knew they’d only known Darcy for a few months, but she’d fit in with their quartet so seamlessly that it was like she’d been there for much longer, and he felt a thread of protectiveness in his chest at the sight of her with someone they didn’t know. 

They climbed the stairs behind Sam and Clint and entered the large mansion, joining the growing throng of people in dresses and suits as they streamed inside. Steve settled his shoulders and straightened his tie, then turned to Bucky with a nod. “Aren’t we here to have a good time? We can drag her away later for a dance or two,” he said, smile settling on his face. “Besides, we should meet the guy who thinks he’s good enough for our Darcy.”

Clint snickered as he snagged a mini slider from a tray and stuffed in his mouth, then veering when another with crab cakes passed by in the opposite direction. They watched him wander off, food in mouth, presumably to find Natasha.

Sam rolled his eyes at his best friend before turning back to Steve and Bucky and reaching out to clap both of their shoulders. “I’m gonna look for Wanda. Don’t get in too much trouble. This is a school event after all.”

Bucky turned to Steve, watching as the blond scanned the crowd, knowing who he was searching for with that watchful and vigilant expression on his face. A quick glance didn’t reveal the fiery red of Darcy’s dress, but the building was massive, so that wasn’t too surprising. Wrapping his arm in Steve’s, Bucky led them further into the house and toward the open bar. “We need drinks.”

Brock Rumlow was steadily ignoring the chick from their sister sorority at his side. Emma Snow? Something like that? To be fair, she was on her phone, taking selfies and texting her friends, so he didn’t exactly feel guilty for his lack of attention. The beer was cold, it was free, and he had a sure lay for the night.

Not a bad way to spend the evening.

“Ahh, so you _do_ have it in you to elevate yourself beyond peasantry,” a dry voice sounded in his ear. 

Brock turned, eyebrows raising when Chase, the president of his frat, was inches behind him. He slung one arm around Chase’s shoulders and pulled, the frat-bro version of a hug. Pulling back, Brock raised his glass to his lips again. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he grunted, dodging away from the chick’s phone when she raised it and attempted to take a picture of him.

“I figured it’d be good to show our support for local museums. Good PR,” Chase explained, dark eyes scanning the crowd. He had to be careful, but he’d gotten good at avoiding anything that could ruin the tenuous game he was playing. He took a drink, knocking his elbow into Rumlow and sticking his chin toward the door.

“Damn,” Rumlow said when he saw Ward enter through the foyer, a woman in red at his side. “That her?”

Chase hummed his affirmative, small smirk playing on his lips. He took a step to the right, dodging out of her line of sight but locking his gaze on Ward. He waited for the man to notice him before he left Rumlow and his date. He needed a word with his second.

Grant had excused himself, going to go grab them drinks, and Darcy turned to see if the boys had shown up yet. She swore all four of them were joined at the hip, and it made her smile when she spotted the quartet on the edge of the dance floor, nursing their drinks and taking in the crowd..

“Who’s that sexy lady? _Sexy laaady_?” Clint sang, off key and with sheer delight, when he spotted Darcy, grinning as she made her way over..

Darcy laughed at Clint with a roll of her eyes. Her hazel gaze darted to rest on Steve and Bucky, and then away, just as quick. “You boys looking to make cause a ruckus?”

“That a promise?” Sam asked, leaning forward to press a kiss to Darcy’s cheek and give her a quick hug. “You look amazing, Darcy. Really.”

“I suppose this is the part where I say ‘this ol’ thang?’ and try to play coy, but I’ll save us all the trouble.” She turned her attention to Clint - no, she _definitely_ wasn’t avoiding looking at Steve and Bucky, _thankyouverymuch_ \- giving him an impressed expression. “You clean up very nice, Barton.”

“I know,” the blond answered with a wry grin, “but I’m not the only one.”

At his push, Darcy turned her gaze to Steve and Bucky. They were a vision in light and dark, standing there next to each other. She reached out and straightened Steve’s tie where it had come out of his tie-tack. “You both look very sharp.” 

She mentally cringed. _Really, Lewis? Sharp? They look sharp?_ She busied herself with pulling a piece of lint off Bucky’s lapel, keeping her eyes downcast out of self preservation, afraid what she’d let slip out if she looked at them for too long. 

“Same, I mean. Damn,” Steve blurted.

“Fabulous, Darcy. You shine like a jewel,” Bucky said, taking her hand from his jacket and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “Give us a twirl?”

“Oh, god,” Darcy said, laughing when Bucky lifted her hand above her head and spun her, the dress giving a small billow. She stopped, cheeks flushed, smiling up at the four of them. “I don’t get to dress up very often.”

“You should,” Clint said.

“He doesn’t mean you look bad normally -”

“Of course I don’t!”

“- he just doesn’t know how to speak in polite society,” Sam finished. He pretended not to see te rude hand gesture Clint sent in his direction. “I’m getting us drinks. Drinks? Yes.”

“I’ll help!”

Darcy watched Clint and Sam head toward the bar before turning back to Steve and Bucky, eyes flicking back and forth between them, having to split her attention because looking at that much pretty at one time was liable to drive anyone insane. “I haven’t gotten to see you guys much lately. Seems we’ve all been a bit _busy_ , yeah?” She grinned widely, cheeks tinting slightly with pink as she met her eyes.

Steve could feel the heat as his ears turned pink and he ran his hand over the back of his neck, the memory of her walking in on them in the art studio and the embarrassment flashing in his mind.

Bucky snorted, reaching out to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Darcy with an affectionate smile. “We miss you, too, Darce. Seeing you in class just isn’t enough,” Bucky said earnestly, glad they’d be able to joke about the incident and not let it get uncomfortable.

“You, too, Jamie. I -”

Whatever she was going to say was lost as an older woman from the shelter came over and started talking _at_ Darcy, completely oblivious that she was breaking into the middle of a conversation. The woman pulled Darcy away by the arm, and Darcy gave an apologetic look over her shoulder at the boys. 

_Sorry_ , she mouthed.

Bucky watched her go, a small sigh escaping his lips. It seemed like time just wasn’t on their side. He heard the piano begin playing, turning to watch as a few people made their way onto the small dance floor.

He held his hand out to Steve. “Dance with me?”

“I don’t think you really grasp the reality, the _gravity_ of this situation,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear as they moved slowly to the piano music being played.

Bucky’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the rest of the people that were taking turns spinning on the dance floor. Clint had his arms around Natasha’s waist, looking like something out of a middle school dance, but it didn’t appear that the copper-haired ballerina minded in the least as she sported a soft, but _real_ smile on her lips. Sam was twirling Wanda around, laughter coming from both of them. He didn’t see Darcy, but he’d only had the chance to speak to her briefly before she’d been stolen away. “What situation, Steve?” 

“I can’t decide which I want more right now: if I want your dick in my mouth, or want to be pounded until I see stars,” he replied, voice low and smooth. “Do you have any idea what you look like? Sex on goddamn legs, is what. Could your pants _be_ any fucking tighter? I’m going crazy keeping my hands off of you.”

“Yes, they could be and are growing tighter with you whispering that filth in my ear,” Bucky growled against Steve’s cheek as they moved. He used the closeness of dancing to show him _exactly_ what his body thought about the punk’s words. “Unless you plan on leaving _before_ the performance, I suggest you keep those dirty comments to yourself. But remember them for later.”

The piano player finished the song with a quick flourish of keys, the people gathered giving him a round of applause. The group turned to Professor Odinson as he moved to the middle of the floor, the microphone looking impossibly tiny in his very large hands.

“Thank you all for joining us this evening, everyone. The Mark Twain house and museum is a bastion of history in the middle of a high-tech world. The rich background of this home, the museum, and the works of Mark Twain. They all serve to tether us to the past in a very real way. Any donations you make tonight will be matched by Trinity College, and also, generously, by the fraternity of Zeta Psi.”

Darcy, standing on the edge of the dance floor, turned to smile up at Grant, her hazel eyes lighting with surprise. “What?”

“You said you liked the class,” Ward said, holding his drink up and nodding when there was a smattering of applause in his direction. “Besides, the fraternity is always looking for worthy charities to give to. We’re very serious about giving back.”

Her grin only brightened at his words and Darcy leaned in to press her lips against his. “You’re rather charming, has anyone told you that, Mr. Ward?”

On the other side of the floor, Steve was still pressed against Bucky, slowly running his hand up and down Bucky’s back.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “I guess I’ll have to go take care of myself, just to take the edge off. Remember I used to volunteer here during the summers in high school? I know where I can find somewhere quiet, where I can think about your hands on me. You know just how I like it, don’t you, Buck? Your hand wrapped around my dick, nice and slow, Jesus fuck, the way you twist your hand right around the tip? I’m dripping just thinking about it. Ain’t got nothing on under these pants, didn’t want to ruin the line, right? It’d be so easy.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at Steve’s words, warmth filling his chest. He honestly didn’t know if it was the dancing, or the suits, of the nearness of his birthday, but something had gotten into the blond and Bucky wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take much more of it. His grey gaze swept over the crowd, stopping on the vision of red standing on the other side of the piano. “Find a place. Now.”

Steve’s eyes followed Bucky, and he smirked knowingly. Using his hand at the small of Bucky’s back, he led him off the dance floor and out of the room. The third story was easy enough to access; Steve moved the velvet rope from the stairway and they slipped past, back to the servant stairs, up, a click of an unlocked door, and the pair found themselves in an empty room. It was normally used for storage in the winter, but because of the fundraiser, nothing had been moved up yet. 

“What’s it going to be, lover?” Steve ran his mouth to the sensitive spot behind Bucky’s ear as he whispered, “no witchy spells. Don’t wanna hide.”

Bucky pulled Steve against him roughly, hips pressing into the blond’s, his hard cock grinding against Steve’s. He reached down, sliding against the front of Steve’s pants, clutching him through the fabric. “Get on your knees.” The thrill of the command chased up and down his spine as he began unbuckling his belt.

Steve pulled off his jacket, sinking down to kneel on it in front of Bucky. His hand went to his own fly, releasing his own erection with a sigh, already aching uncomfortably. He mouthed along the front of Bucky’s pants, using his hands to pull out Bucky’s shirt tails, pushing Bucky’s hands out of the way so he could undo the other man’s pants himself.

Steve moaned Bucky’s name when he saw that there wasn’t anything under those goddamned pants but skin. His eyes fluttered closed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Bucky’s lower stomach, taking a deep breath, his body thrilling with hunger. His lips closed over a bit of skin above Bucky’s hip, sucking a mark in the flesh, hissing at the pressure in his own dick. _God_ , his hunger for this man was never sated.

He looked up at Bucky, blue eyes darker, pupils blown wide as he used the flat of his tongue to slowly lick Bucky from base to tip.

A shiver rocked through Bucky at the look in Steve’s eyes, hand wrapped around his cock and tongue flicking on the end before he pushed his lips back down. Bucky’s head fell back, hissing through his teeth at the warmth of Steve’s mouth on him. “Fuck, _Steve_ , fuck.” The words echoed a bit in the room, the wet sounds reverberating as Steve worked his mouth up and down.

 _Fuck I’m so hard for you, but you **wanted** this. Whispering in my ear on the dance floor, pressed hard and tight against me, all for me._ Bucky looked down at Steve, running his hands through his blond hair, fingers clutching at the strands with a good tug. _Fuck your mouth feels amazing._

Steve pulled his mouth off Bucky, breathing hard. He rested his head on Bucky’s thigh, before looking up at him and licking his lips slowly. “I always want this. Want you. God, Bucky, I want your hands on me, your mouth on me, you in me, me in you. _I want it all_.”

As the words fell from Steve, Bucky couldn’t help the way he panted. It was warm in the room, their body heat filling the space, and Bucky could feel the first beads of sweat form at his brow. This man and his words, on his knees and so close but not touching, was going to be the death of him. “You have me,” Bucky growled, fingers pulling _just enough_ in Steve’s hair, “all of me. Every day. I’m yours.”

Steve twitched at the pull in his hair, the way Bucky growled, his lover’s words. Bucky had never failed to reassure Steve when he needed it, and never made him feel bad about what he wanted. _This man._ Steve loved this man, more than he could express with just words. He pushed up into Bucky, standing, needing his lips, needing to taste and move against him. Steve’s hand caught in Bucky’s hair, tugging so he could scrape his teeth along that beautiful line of his throat. 

“I can’t - this is - I fucking love you,” Steve growled in Bucky’s ear, rolling his hips, grabbing Bucky’s ass for purchase. It was almost too much, his body craving and aching for Bucky’s touch.

Bucky’s mouth crashed against Steve’s, teeth biting and then soothing, tongue sliding against his lover’s lips. Steve was wound tight - _so tight_ \- that Bucky barely had to wrap his hand around Steve’s dick before the blond was thrusting upward into him. There was almost a frenzy building in the younger man, and Bucky was more than happy to help cure the storm. He leaned down and bit Steve’s shoulder through his shirt as he used his hand to rub up and down Steve’s length, pressing his cock against Steve’s, hands moving over both of them. “Love you, punk, so much.”

“Come with me. Oh, _oh_ fuck.” It wasn’t a demand so much as a plea; Steve wanted to fall apart in Bucky’s arms, wanted Bucky to fall apart, too. Steve couldn’t help himself. Everything that he had said to Bucky downstairs was true, and he didn’t care if he was coming in less than five minutes.

“So, good, _so good_ , ah, _just like that_ , please, oh god, Bucky,” Steve chanted, thrusting up into his and Bucky’s fists.

Bucky’s thumb brushed over Steve, his precome slicking over their skin. “So close,” he panted, tongue darting out to taste a bead of sweat as it started sliding down Steve’s neck. “Fuck, Steve, yes, I’m going to come. I’m going to -” Bucky’s fist moved quicker, up and down, up and down, not worried about the noises he was making or the way it was echoing in the room. He cried out once more, “ _Steve!_ ”, before he came, hips pumping. 

He heard Steve yell his name, the blond’s forehead pressing against his as he followed, both riding the waves, breathing labored and skin slick with sweat.

Steve huffed a laugh once he’d caught his breath. This, _just this_ , was everything. Steve knew they were still in the new stages of the relationship, but that wasn’t what this was. The feeling inside of him was strong, and _real_ and he knew it wouldn’t ebb, wouldn’t fade. He felt sated, but as it always did, his desire for Bucky would return in minutes, once again making him go crazy with want. This wouldn’t be the only time their bodies came together tonight, and he was already looking forward to their next fix.

“C’mon jerk. Let’s get cleaned up and enjoy the show, yeah?”

Darcy and Ward made their way to the side of the floor as they were instructed, making room for the performance. She grinned at Sam and Clint as they got within range, hazel eyes darting toward the crowd, eyebrows furrowing. “Where’s Jamie and Steve?”

“Getting some air,” Sam said with a shrug, “I think I saw them heading for the conservato -”

“ _Shhh!_ ” Both Darcy and Sam looked over to Clint with wide eyes at his hiss. “It’s _starting_!”

The lights in the foyer dimmed, rented spotlights illuminating the floor with a single beam. From the shadows, Natasha appeared, a bright red pointe shoes on her feet that matched the tulle of the skirt around her waist.

The piano played a slow, careful piece of music. It was ominous, and Darcy couldn’t take her eyes off the redhead in the middle of the light. A man came to stand beside the piano, just on the edge of where the light showed Natasha’s movements. He began to read, most likely something that Twain had written, but she wasn’t able to hear it at all, not with Natasha’s dancing demanding her attention.

Natasha was nothing but motion and fluid lines, complete peace on her face as she moved across the room. A faint piano line came in, and Darcy could see the music come to life in front of her. Natasha danced with abandon, using her body like a paintbrush, illustrating every rise and fall of the piano, every note punctuated with finality of a crisp sharp movement, only to be soothed by a graceful sweep of a limb, drawing the eye, rapt with attention.

She didn’t know how long Natasha danced - minutes, hours - but at the end, Darcy’s eyes were wet and she was short of breath. When the song ended and Natasha bowed low, the applause in the space was thunderous, a toss up between Clint and Darcy on who’d clapped the loudest. Natasha bowed again as the crowd showered her with praise, grace and beauty in every movement. Darcy actually put her fingers in her mouth and whistled, waving when Natasha looked up at her with a small, almost imperceptible grin.

“She was amazing!”

“Did you _see_ that?” 

Clint and Darcy clutched at each other in excitement as Natasha left the floor, off to change so she could enjoy the party. They babbled over each other, gushing about the performance. Clint’s face like an awestruck groupie. “And she lets me kiss her from time to time!”

Darcy was laughing, glad that Natasha wasn’t there to hear Clint’s exclamation, her hazel eyes catching sight of Bucky and Steve, waving in excitement as they approached. “Wasn’t she _amazing_?” she gushed, cheeks filled with a happy flush, enough to compliment the color of her dress. “How do people have that much talent inside of them? It’s unfair!”

Steve grinned and held up his phone. “I may or may not have recorded it.”

Bucky accepted Darcy’s high five, smiling just as hard as the rest of them. His smile faltered a bit as an arm wrapped itself around Darcy’s waist.

“Hi. I’m Grant Ward. Thanks for keeping my lady company while I congratulated the dancer. Her performance will definitely bring a lot of donors in tonight.”

All four boys blinked when the dark-haired man smiled at them, tucking Darcy under his shoulder.

“Which means you Zetas will be out even more money,” Clint said, mouth turning up as he looked at the man. There was a smile on Clint’s face, but it didn’t match his eyes.

“It’s nothing, really. Our alumni are always happy to help when it’s needed,” Grant said, nodding in Clint’s direction. He pulled Darcy closer into his side, giving her a slight squeeze. “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Ah! Sorry! I’m an idiot. Guys, this is Grant, which he already told you. Grant, this is Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, James Barnes, and Steve Rogers. These are the other four in my history group.” 

Clint looked relaxed, Sam had a little smile playing on his lips, and Steve was leaning not so casually against Bucky. It didn’t _look_ like it, but Bucky could tell that his friends were bristling. 

_I don’t like him_. The thought was nearly simultaneous between the four of them.

“Hope you’re taking good care of our Darcy,” Clint drawled, a toothpick clenched in his teeth.

Ward smiled his most charming smile, fingers rubbing along the fabric of Darcy’s dress at her hip. “Taking good care of her is my only mission at the moment, boys, I promise.”

“ _Her_ is standing right here,” Darcy said, looking between the five men with a soft frown. This was almost like when the boys had one of their silent conversations, but now it included Grant, who’d never even met them. 

“I’m sorry,” Ward said, leaning over to press a kiss to her hair. “I didn’t mean to talk over you, babe.” His eyes glanced downward, seeing Bucky and Steve standing so close, hands clasped, then back up to their faces. When the piano behind them started playing softly, he took the advantage to pull her away. “Darcy, would you care to dance?”

When she nodded, looking between the boys with furrowed brows, he held his drink out to Sam. “Would you mind taking that? Thanks so much.” He draw Darcy’s hand above her head, spinning her into the small crowd that was making their way to the floor as well.

Sam looked down at the glass on his hand, then back up to the two of them on the floor. He set the glass on a waiter’s tray as they passed.

“Dick,” Clint hissed.

“Yeah,” the other three boys said in unison.

God, her feet hurt. For the thousandth time, Darcy told herself that heels were bullshit. She took a moment to sit in one of the slowly emptying chairs, and slipped her shoes off. _Sweet, sweet relief_ , she thought as she wiggled her toes.

“Ready to head out, Darcy?” Ward asked as he approached, holding out the bottle of water he’d been tasked to grab. He was still as pressed and perfect now as he’d been at the beginning of the night, despite the dancing. Darcy wasn’t sure how. Taking the bottle, she nodded, using it as an excuse not to answer out loud.

“Ward.”

Darcy glanced up as a dark-haired man came up to them. She knew him from History. Rumlow. It didn’t take her long to figure out he was actually one of Grant’s frat brothers. Usually frat guys had a certain look about them. Rumlow definitely had it. Grant definitely did not.

“Ah. Rumlow, this is Darcy. Darcy, this is Brock. Did you need something, Rumlow?” Darcy busied herself by taking another drink. Grant didn’t exactly sound excited at the interruption.

“We’ve got a thing… we have to deal with… this thing.”

She watched Grant stare at Brock for a second, face unreadable, before he turned to smile at her. “Do you mind if I step away? I’ll be right back.”

Darcy nodded, sucking down some more water. “It’s fine, I’ll be here.”

She watched as they made their way to the other side of the room, Grant clearly irritated, judging by the set of his shoulders. Darcy craned her head to see what was going on - _is he talking to Bucky? What the hell?_ A couple passed in front of her and when she looked up again, neither of them were in her line of sight anymore.

“What?” Ward said flatly as he approached, his lack of enthusiasm plain in his tone. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

Chase raised a single eyebrow as he gazed at Ward. “We have a problem, sweet cheeks. Well, to be specific, _you_ have a problem.”

Ward crossed his arms over his chest. “Could you be a bit more vague?”

“Strawberry blonde, about five foot six? Her body’s been prepped and she’s ready for the ritual.”

“Dude, didn’t you - “

“Shut it, Rumlow,” Grant growled. Rumlow looked away, taking another drink of his beer, more than happy to let the two other men growl at each other.

Chase glared at Ward and the amount of resistance he could sense in the man. “Yes, that, exactly. Go get rid of your pet and get your ass back to the house and _finish it_.”

Ward stared at Chase, quieting his urge to erupt. He swallowed the rage, pushing it down. He’d figure out a way to sate it later. “Fine.” The word had been short, clipped, but Chase smiled at him regardless. “Give me five minutes.”

Carefully making sure his face was blank, a perfect mask of pleasantness, he walked back to Darcy, feigning worry. “Darcy, I am so sorry but we’re having a bit of an emergency back at the house. New freshmen causing issues.”

“Oh.” Grant had been more than attentive to her for most of the evening and, if Darcy was being honest, she was more disappointed that she gotten to spend as much time with the boys as she’d wanted. “That’s fine,” Darcy said, eyes darting around him to catch sight of Bucky again. “Were you talking to -”

Ward nodded, holding a hand out to Darcy to help her climb to her feet. “Do you think you’d be able to get a ride home? Maybe from Ms. Foster?”

Darcy bent, pulling her heels back on. “I’m sure I can catch a ride with James and -”

“I think they’ve already left, and they seemed to be drinking. Want you to get home safely, pet. So, Ms. Foster, yeah?”

Frowning at Grant interrupting her, _again_ , she shot a quick text at Jane. She’d never felt anything but safe with the boys, and she didn’t like the dismissive way Grant had dismissed her thought. She was confused; he’d _just_ been talking with Bucky seconds ago. _Obviously_ they hadn’t left yet.

When Darcy’s phone chirped, she glanced down at it before looking back up at Ward. “Yeah, I’m good to go, Janey can give me a ride. I hope everything’s okay with the froshies. I’ll text you tomorrow?”

“Tonight. I’ll wanna know you got in alright.” Ward dropped a kiss on her forehead before striding away.

“Are you going to talk about it?”

“Hm?” Darcy turned to Jane at the question, pulled from her own thoughts at the words. The woods flying by outside the car’s windows were dark, the dashboard the only thing lighting the interior.

“Your eyebrows are doing that thing they do when you’re thinking hard.”

Darcy reached up, smoothing the skin with her fingers. “No they’re not.”

“What happened? It looked like you were having a good time.” Jane checked her side mirror before shifting to the right lane. “I didn’t realize you knew so many people.”

“I guess the people I know from the library and the shelter have actual lives and overlap with people interested in Mark Twain and museums. It’s weird.”

Jane hummed her agreement, silence descending into the car once again, broken only by the wiper blades as they moved, a soft rain misting against the windshield.

“Grant looked nice in his suit,” Jane said, glancing over at her friend when she just nodded in response. It wasn’t like Darcy to be this quiet, _ever_ , and it was making her worry. Darcy was the closed thing she had to a sister and Jane could feel a thread of protection in her chest, telling her something wasn’t right with the situation.

Darcy nodded, hazel eyes sliding to the darkness outside the window as they drove. “Yeah, he did,” she finally answered.

When Darcy didn’t elaborate, Jane reached forward and turned the radio off. Darcy turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “Spit it out, Lewis.”

“Huh?”

“Your face. It’s doing that thing. I don’t like it.”

“... you don’t like my face?”

“No. I don’t. Not when it’s not smiling and has the serious ‘ _grr I’m thinking thinky thoughts_ ’ expression. So what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ _Darcy Anne Lewis_ , you tell me what is wrong this instant!”

“I don’t know. I don’t _know_!” 

If she was surprised by the loudness of Darcy’s words, Jane did a good job hiding it. 

“I haven’t felt the flips.” Darcy frowned, gesturing with her hands when Jane looked to her with confusion. “The flips. _The flips_ , you know! Where you see them and your stomach acts like it’s on a tilt-a-whirl, all tumbly and butterflies. When I see Grant smile, it is very pretty to look at, and he is a _very_ good kisser. And he brings me flowers and says nice things. He’s very charming, and a gentleman. I should be feeling the flips. I should.”

“But you don’t,” Jane stated, sighing when Darcy turned back to look out the window. “Then why not just tell him you’re not interested?”

“I _am_ interested,” Darcy corrected, leaning back against the headrest, no longer worried about her hair staying perfect. “Or, I want to be. I _want_ the flips to come, I really do. It just might take a little bit more time.”

“I have a suggestion. A research question, really. Just follow my science, alright?” Jane waited until Darcy turned to her, one dark eyebrow raising. “Okay. Close your eyes.” When Darcy just blinked at her, Jane looked back to the road. “Just do it, Darcy.”

Darcy heaved a large sigh but let her eyes fall closed.

“Okay. I want you to picture Grant.”

Darcy’s mental image of Grant was nice. He wore tailored slacks and a button-down shirt. He had a little bit of scruff on his jawline, though not unkempt, and that charming grin of his was on his face. She remembered the way the muscles of his back felt under her fingertips as they danced, and the look on his face after they kissed. He’d looked satisfied. Happy.

“Do you feel any flips?”

Darcy shook her head _no_.

“Now, I want you to try to remember the last time you _did_ feel any flips.”

Face screwing up in concentration, Darcy did her best to think back. It had to have been years, maybe junior- 

_No._

It wasn’t years ago, not in high school, not in junior high. Not even her first two years at Trinity. 

Unbidden and automatic, her mind filled with the memory from the art building. She remembered the lines of Steve’s back, Bucky’s hair barely visible on the blond’s other side, his fingers digging into Steve’s hip as he did… whatever it was he’d been doing.

Her eyes snapped open, her heart pounding with just the briefest thought of that memory.

“ _That_! What was that? Who were you thinking of?”

Darcy turned to look at Jane, slowly shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean? You said you wanted to feel flips!”

“Just leave it, Jane.”

Jane turned back to the road, glancing periodically at Darcy as she drove. The younger woman was looking out into the darkness, frown turning the corners of her mouth down. She’d let it lie tonight, but Jane wasn’t going to let it go for good. Something was going on with Darcy, and she intended to find out what it was.

Maybe she’d recruit someone to help. Luckily, she could think of several people.

It didn’t matter that he’d held Steve against him less than an hour ago, Bucky would never get tired of pulling the blond toward him and connecting their bodies from head to toe. Somehow they fit together perfectly, like it was meant to be. 

Bucky slanted his mouth over Steve’s in the dark of their dorm room, tasting the spiked punch and champagne they’d had at the Twain house. In no rush, but needing to feel skin against skin, Bucky pulled at Steve’s shirt and freed it from where it’d been tucked into his slacks. He pressed the palm of his hand to Steve’s back, fingers flexing against the warmth as he explored his lover’s mouth with his tongue.

There was something about this man, who’d been his best friend forever and knew all his stories and all his scars, that Bucky couldn’t seem to get enough of. Steve relaxed into his touch, the sigh falling against Bucky’s mouth as he just enjoyed being able to do _this_ , with _this_ man, right now.

Steve’s hands came up to frame Bucky’s face, gently feeling the way his jaw moved, the shape of it as it swept up to his ears, bits of hair falling to his face. Gone was the overwhelming driving impatience of earlier. He wanted to take all night, wanted to take his time memorizing Bucky in a million different new ways. He could spend forever just looking at Bucky, but getting to love this man, getting to be _loved_ by him? Steve’s head still spun at the thought.

Music was playing softly from Bucky’s open laptop, and Steve pulled back enough to rest his forehead against Bucky’s, nearly eye level with him. He just breathed, looking into his lover’s stormy grey eyes from inches away, seeing that gorgeous slate where they were fringed with sooty eyelashes. The most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Inside and out.

“Dance with me?” Steve pulled Bucky’s hand close to his chest, swaying gently to the quiet guitar notes. This wasn’t about showing each other off, it wasn’t an excuse to touch in public; it was about gentle brushes of skin and fabric, being able to breathe the same air.

“Always,” Bucky whispered, one hand staying on Steve’s back, the other held between their bodies. He wasn’t sure what he’d done in a past life to earn this, but he wasn’t going to let go. The entirety of his days, from when they were children to now, had been with Steve at his side. He couldn’t imagine any days in the future that didn’t feature the man, his hand clasped with Steve’s, ready for anything that was thrown at them.

He pressed his lips to Steve’s jawline, the slight stubble rubbing against his face as he took a deep breath in. He didn’t know how, some kind of chemical reaction he didn’t fully understand, but he smelled like… _home_. “I love you, punk. So much.”

Warm, calloused fingers worked at the tie at Bucky’s throat, slowly sliding the silky fabric out its knot, pulling until it fell to the floor. Steve’s fingers slipped each button out of its hole, slow, so slowly, watching as each exposed a little more of tanned skin. He ran his hands up Bucky’s torso, feeling each dip of muscle, every scar and memory. Where Bucky’s appendix had to come out at fifteen. When they all thought that building that fort was a good idea, even when no one had any idea how to use a hammer.

Fingers lingering on each rib, counting their way up to Bucky’s chest. Steve could feel the steady _thumpthumpthump_ of Bucky’s heartbeat. His thumbs caught in the hollow below Bucky’s clavicle, following the movement of the soft line. Finally, Steve pushed Bucky’s shirt off to follow the tie to the floor. He leaned forward to catch Bucky's lower lip with his teeth, nipping and soothing with his tongue, marking that spot near Bucky’s shoulder that made him gasp. 

“I love you, jerk.”

Sucking in air sharply when Steve’s teeth pressed into his skin, _just this_ side of hurting, Bucky reached up to hold the back of Steve’s neck, fingers digging into the muscle. He’d been completely naked with Steve, looked over every inch of the blond and then followed his sight with his tongue, but it always seemed like there was something more to discover, some new bit of skin he hadn’t paid enough attention to.

He needed _more_. More skin on skin. More lips, more teeth, and tongues, and sighs that filled up the small room. He would never have enough of this man. Bucky pushed Steve’s jacket from his shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor as he worked on the buttons of his shirt. It joined the rest of their discarded clothing, forgotten and unnecessary. He let his fingers skim where they wanted as he pulled Steve’s mouth back against his own. “Want you,” he growled against lips, “all of you.”

Bucky’s skin was just as hot as his own, and Steve shuddered at the feeling, at the slide of skin, and the promise of more in the energy flowing off Bucky. Steve could feel the bits of sparks following the lines of Bucky’s hands, and the slowly burning arousal in his gut headed lower. He fumbled with his belt, the buttons on his slacks, until he was naked and pressed up against Bucky, showing him with actions and movements how much he was affected.

“You have me, you know that.” His words were punctuated by a groan when Bucky pulled him close. The fabric of his trousers wasn’t enough friction. Steve wanted to be surrounded, engulfed, _possessed_ by his lover.

“Take me.”

He wasn’t going to need to say it twice. Bucky, spurred on by Steve’s words, reached between their bodies to wrap his hand around the swell of Steve’s cock, enjoying the hiss that fell from his lover’s lips. 

“So beautiful and hard for me,” he whispered against Steve’s jaw as he leaned forward, tongue darting out to lick the soft bit of skin right below his ear. The shiver that ran through Steve’s body made him chuckle softly. “All mine.”

One of Bucky’s hand stayed around Steve, his other slipping behind to grab the swell of his ass, his fingers digging in as he ground himself against Steve, every noise the blond made like a badge of honor. Bucky wanted Steve pliant before him, begging and moaning as Bucky worked him over. 

Bucky let go of Steve, his lips curling at the small cry of sadness it earned, both hands moving to grip Steve’s hips as he moved them backward toward the bed. The back of Steve’s legs hit first and he took a seat, cock bouncing against his stomach. Bucky pulled his belt loose, letting it fall to the floor as he dropped his pants as well. He stood there, hard and ready, and looked down at Steve. 

“Beautiful,” Bucky breathed, leaning forward. He pressed a heavy kiss to Steve’s lips as he crawled onto the bed, setting himself between Steve’s open hips, his tongue brushing against Steve’s lower lip as he laid his weight down.

Steve shook his head. “You’re the beautiful one. Always have been.” He traced his hands up and down Bucky’s back, smoothing over firm skin and the toned muscles beneath. He didn’t miss the shiver as his fingers skimmed the sensitive skin just at the juncture of Bucky’s leg to his ass. He licked into Bucky’s mouth and did it again, and again, until he heard the quietest little whine. 

He hummed against Bucky’s shoulder, licking at the mark he’d left. “Do you like that, sweetheart? Thinking of me, holding you, grabbing that sweet ass of yours as you fuck me? Wrapping my legs around your waist, holding me down, not letting me move, just taking it?” He couldn’t stop his hands now as he spread his legs farther apart so he could rub his aching cock against Bucky’s, mind blanking with the delicious thought of being fucked until he couldn't think of anything _but_ Bucky.

Gods above and below, Steve and his mouth were going to make Bucky come before they’d even gotten started. 

“Wrapping your legs like this?” He brushed his hands up Steve’s legs, bending Steve’s knees so they wrapped around Bucky’s waist. He pressed himself against Steve’s ass, _almost_ pressing against his opening. 

Bucky rubbed himself, teasing Steve, the sounds of want filling the room. He knew what he wanted to do to Steve, but even after Steve’s own words, Bucky still wanted to be _absolutely certain_ they both knew what came next.

Steve nodded, meeting Bucky’s eyes, searching them with his own. In that moment, he loved Bucky more than anything; even now, Bucky was still checking in, still asking, still reassuring. “I want you,” Steve confirmed, “I want you everywhere. I want you in me, I wanna feel every inch of you, wanna watch you come apart above me.”

He fumbled for the bottle of slick he knew he’d stuffed near his pillow with the hand that wasn’t groping Bucky’s ass. Steve could spend hours just on that curve alone. Had, if anyone snooped in his sketchbooks. Finding it, he held the bottle in Bucky’s eyeline.

“Fuck me, _please_ , Buck, make me come around you,” he knew what his words were doing to Bucky, but it didn’t matter because he _meant_ them. He hadn’t done this with anyone, and it felt right that Bucky was his first. His first best friend. His first love.

The tendril of want in Bucky’s stomach tightened at the way Steve looked up at him, so sure and trusting, earnest and ready. He took the bottle from Steve, coating his fingers. He lifted one of Steve’s legs, hooking it on his shoulder, leaning forward. He caught Steve’s lips with his own, slick fingers moving up and down Steve’s cock, slowly, so slowly, before he palmed Steve’s sack, squeezing softly.

He deepened the kiss as his fingers brushed against Steve’s opening, fingers sliding, pushing. Steve’s mouth opened and he panted against Bucky at the feeling, right leg spreading wider, left leg pressed between their bodies as he opened for Bucky. Little sparks of light flicked around them and the air shimmered with their breathing; even the shadows were still, like power was waiting for a slow exhale.

Steve slipped his hand down to guide Bucky’s fingers with his own, showing him how he liked the rim played with, just running knuckles against it until he was shivering. He pushed down on Bucky’s hand, taking one finger, moaning as Bucky moved it slowly in and out of him. Sparks of pleasure chased Bucky’s finger catching on Steve’s rim. 

When Steve was chasing Bucky’s hand, Bucky slowly pushed in another finger, moaning as they moved together slowly, exploring, finding the spots that made Steve gasp and grind down. “Soon, love, soon, just one more then you, please?”

Bucky’s body _ached_ to be inside of Steve, to make their bodies fit together, but he wanted his lover to be ready. He bit his lip and nodded down at Steve, not trusting his voice. His entire body felt like one large nerve, vibrating with a hunger that only Steve could feed.

He brushed against Steve, working one more finger in, making sure Steve was moaning, hips thrusting, shaking with need before he reached down and wrapped a hand around himself, spreading the lube from his fingers. He shifted their bodies, setting himself against Steve.

“Fuck, Bucky, _yes_ ,” Steve panted, anticipation making his voice a whisper that ended closer to a begging whine.

It took every bit of willpower in his body to push forward slowly, letting Steve adjust to the stretch. He locked his eyes with Steve’s, wanting to see every slight change in expression as it crossed his lover’s face. Bucky’s hips finally settled against Steve’s, and all Steve’s mind could babble was that he was _so full_ and it was _perfect_ and he’d _missed this_ without even knowing it. He could feel every inch of Bucky pressed against him, over him, in him, and it was everything.

“Buck? You ok?” Steve pushed the hair falling across Bucky’s forehead out of his eyes. “I love you.”

There was a lump in Bucky’s throat, something heavy in his chest, as he looked down at Steve, skin flushed, body surrounding him. Every breath Steve took moved him _just enough_ that the friction sent chills up and down his spine. He let out a breath he’d been holding, nodding. He turned his head, catching Steve’s hand where it cupped his cheek, pressing a kiss to the blond’s palm. 

Bucky moaned, pulling out slowly and deliberately, committing every moment to memory. The pink tint on Steve’s chest, the way his hair turned white gold as a ray of moonlight came between the crack in the curtain. The feeling of being in Steve, feeling his warmth _everywhere_... “Fuck, baby. You feel amazing.”

Steve melted into Bucky. He moved his hips, rolling them up and against Bucky, watching Bucky’s face to see how he felt, how each movement made them both stutter. They moved against each other, with moans and sighs, and Steve could have sworn time itself stopped as they came together and broke apart. 

He couldn’t take it anymore: Steve’s whole body was aching, _on fire_ , and he kissed Bucky desperately, messily. He loved the stretch, the pull, the push of Bucky in him, his cock caught between their bodies. Steve tried to reach down to wrap his hand around himself, but whined when Bucky caught it with his own and dragged it down to his hip. Steve’s eyes flashed with hunger when Bucky’s fingers wrapped around his dick instead, hand moving at the same tortuously slow pace.

“No, let me,” Bucky growled into Steve’s neck. 

“I’m so close, so close, Bucky, _James_ , Buck -” Steve’s voice broke, hands trying to find purchase anywhere, teetering on the edge. He raked his fingers down Bucky’s back, sure to leave scratches and bruises. A hand fisted in the sweaty strands of Bucky’s hair, pulling his face to Steve’s so he could watch his face as they fell apart.

Bucky’s hand on Steve moved in tandem with his hips, up and down, up and down. He had to concentrate on the rhythm. Everything in his body wanted to let go, wanted to crash into Steve, over and over, lost in the haze of lust, but he wanted Steve to come with him. “With me,” Bucky panted, the hand on Steve moving quicker, the sound of skin hitting skin filling their room. “Always with me.”

His thrusts lost their steady rhythm the closer Bucky got, squeezing and twisting his fist at the tip of Steve’s cock, knowing the movement drove him crazy. “Fuck, Steve, come with me. _Fuck_ , want you with me.”

The growling command had Steve’s back arching as his vision whited out, coming around Bucky’s cock and pumping into his fist. “Now, now, _nownownow_ , Bucky,” he chanted unable to do anything but _feel_.

Bucky watched Steve fall apart, head thrown back, _absolutely beautiful_ as he came. Seeing the look, _that_ look, on Steve’s face pushed Bucky over the edge. He thrust once, twice, and came, body pressing deeply into Steve, drowning in his warmth. He sagged, holding himself up, breathing heavily, hands pressed into the comforter on either side of Steve’s head.

“Fuck, Steve. I can’t- don’t- _stop moving_!” he laughed lightly as Steve shifted below him, everything feeling like a nerve of sensitivity. “Give a guy a minute, will you?”

“I certainly gave you more than a minute,” Steve replied, voice breathy. He was still twitchy from aftershocks, but managed to move just his head to nuzzle into Bucky’s neck. He smelled like sweat, and salt, and sex, and Bucky, and _home_.

After he’d relearned how to breathe, Bucky moved back, the loss of Steve’s heat wrapped around him stark and stinging. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Steve’s mouth, collapsing on the bed beside the blond, still panting, hand trailing until it was draped over the other man’s chest. 

“Wow,” he breathed, head leaning into Steve’s shoulder, kissing the skin he could get his lips on.

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna do it again?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music Cue #1 - Wait by M83  
> Music Cue #2 - Somebody Loved by The Weepies
> 
>  
> 
> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddessvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com)


	13. Double Double

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Halloween was the best holiday, in my opinion, because it was all about friends, monsters, and candy, rather than family and responsibility_.” ― Margee Kerr
> 
> The gang starts planning for The Best Holiday: All Hallow’s Eve.

GROUP CHAT:  
**Bucky:** _Guys._  
**Bucky:** _Guys._  
**Bucky:** _Have you checked your campus mail boxes yet?_  
**Bucky:** _Guys._  
**Clint:** _what had your knickers in a wad?_  
**Clint:** _Ha. wad._  
**Natasha:** _Ignore him._  
**Darcy:** _but those arms!_  
**Sam:** _You mean DESE GUNS!_  
_(Picture of Sam Wilson in tank top covering his nipples)_  
**Steve:** _I am sitting right next to you. You already know the answer._  
**Jane:** _Why are you even bothering to cover your nipples? It is because they are abnormally small? You can tell us, you know._  
**Jane:** _For Science._  
**Wanda:** _May I borrow a caliper? For accuracy?_  
**Jane:** _Of Course._  
**Natasha:** _What. Please tell me there’s a spread sheet._  
**Jane:** _please_  
**Bucky:** _FOR FUCKS SAKE. GO GET YOUR GODDAMNED MAIL_  
**Clint:** _My nipples are nothing but a delight._  
**Sam:** _this has devolved quickly_  
_(Picture of Clint showing his chest without exposing his face)_  
**Darcy:** _Did you actually instagram filter that? I love you._  
_(photo of elaborate invitation box with peacock feather)_  
**Darcy:** _Jamie. What did you do?_  
**Bucky:** _HALLOWEEN IS BEST. YOU WILL NEVER CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE._  
**Steve:** _It’s actually vellum. I checked. I can neither confirm nor deny that I have been huffing actual indian ink._  
**Wanda:** _This is… to the Blatchford House annual ball. Held by the Society of the Descendants of the Founders of Hartford._  
**Bucky:** _YUP_  
**Wanda:** _HOW DO._  
**Wanda:** _These tickets are impossible to get. You can’t buy them. You never know who’s going to be on the list_.  
**Wanda:** _… you must share your sorcery_  
**Bucky:** _Unless you’re a junior member and your mom’s on the committee and you’re her favorite son._  
**Steve:** _Only son._  
**Bucky:** _Details_  
**Sam:** _HELLS. YES_

Darcy was late to History the next morning, slipping in right after Professor Odinson had started asking questions about the previous weeks reading, She’d tried to be quiet as she passed douchebro Rumlow, but couldn’t help pulling a face at him as she’d flopped down in her usual seat between Steve and Bucky. As the class finished, her excitement bubbled forth and she threw her arms around Bucky’s shoulders.

“This is nothing short of amazing. I already have seventy-five ideas about what I want to wear. Are we going as a group theme? Is that too dorky?”

Bucky grinned, lungs filling with the scent of her perfume or shampoo. Something floral but with citrus. Orange blossom? Whatever it was, it was delicious. “I don’t think we’ve decided yet, but I wouldn’t say no to a group theme.”

“I’ve always wanted to dress up like Team Zisou from _A Life Aquatic_ ,” Clint said from behind them. Darcy turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Yes, fine, don’t argue. _I’ll_ be the Willem Dafoe guy and wear the shorty shorts.”

“Hard pass.” Clint looked over at Sam with fake outrage, hand going to his chest. Sam rolled his eyes. “Hey, the last time we let you choose costumes, we made the worst Spice Girls ever.”

“Depends on your point of view, I guess. Are you still sore that you didn’t get to be Posh Spice?”

“Did you have any good ideas, Darce?”

Darcy thought about Bucky’s question. She hadn’t given a group theme much thought, just in case they didn’t go that route, as she didn’t want to get her hopes up, but maybe the boys were her level of dork after all. “Mmm, not sure. Something fun, but not cliche?”

Steve looked up from his phone. He’d _absolutely_ started a Pinterest page of ideas, but his mind reeled. There were _just so many_ good options, and getting to spend an entire evening with the group sounded like heaven. It appeared Bucky’s and Darcy’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Sweeney Todd?”

Clint shook his head. “You always want to be the Barber. You just want an excuse to stare at Johnny Depp.”

“Uh. Yeah. Can you blame me?”

Snorting at Steve, Bucky shrugged a shoulder. “Speaking of Johnny - what about Alice in Wonderland?”

“You’d make quite the dashing Mad Hatter,” Darcy said, reaching out to pull a hair from Bucky’s shirt. It was blond, and it didn’t take a genius to know whose it was. She’d noticed their clothes had become universal, both Bucky and Steve wearing them on any given day. It was adorable and Darcy’s smile brightened a little, happy that they were happy.

Bucky watched Darcy pluck something from his shirt as he considered the Wonderland aspect. ”I don’t hate it.”

“We could always do steampunk,” Sam said, fingers pressing the buttons on his phone. When everyone went quiet, he looked up at them. They were all looking at him with expressions that ranged from surprised to amused, and all of them appeared to be waiting for him to say more. “What? I’ve been on the internet. It’s a thing. Jules Verne, cogs and brass, Victorian England. Steampunk. Look it up.”

“Who _are_ you?” Clint asked, looking at Sam like he’d never seen him before.

“I will murder you in your sleep, Barton.”

“At least buy me dinner first.”

Darcy’s voice was warm in Ward’s ear as she picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, Miss Lewis. How are you this fine evening?”

Holding up her finger to Jane, Darcy stood up from the table where they’d been studying. She mouthed _give me a minute_ before she walked out of the library. She _hated_ when people talked on phones in the library.

As she made her way out one of the side entrances, using a brick to hold the door open, Darcy shivered in the cool October air. “Just studying with Jane. How are you?”

“Better now that I’m talking with you,” came the charismatic voice on the other end of the phone. Grant gave good voice, and always made her feel like he was truly happy to be talking to her. It was an attractive trait. She wished it did more for her. She wished it a lot.

“Did I catch you at a bad time? You were speaking so much more quietly than I’m used to,” he replied, looking out of the window of his car, seeing her colorful hat at the side of the building.

“I was ready for a break, anyways. What can I do you for?” She cringed at her choice of words. That was… no. _Nope_. Not thinking about it, Darcy.

“The Zetas are having a party for Halloween, we’re doing the usual haunted house and graveyard tour. I was thinking we could coordinate costumes? You’d make an adorable Little Red Riding Hood,” he replied, keeping his voice level. At least she wasn’t lying about where she was. He thought her time was better spent around people of a higher caliber, but at least the mousey grad student wasn’t those... _boys_.

“Oh,” Darcy said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “We actually got invited to the Blatchford House ball. Jamie’s mom is on the committee and he’s a member. I don’t know how I’d never heard of it, but apparently it’s a big thing?” The voice on the other end of the phone went silent, and Darcy actually took the phone from her ear to make sure they hadn’t been disconnected. 

“I see.”

Darcy frowned at the disappointment in his voice. “I could try and come by after, though? I don’t know how late we’ll be out but I’m sure the frat party will go pretty late, right? Maybe I can fit both things in.”

Yes, the party at Blatchford House was a “big thing.” Only first and founding members were invited. You were either born in or married intp that exclusive club. _Of fucking course_ that objectionable abhorrent twat was a member.

Ward’s lip turned up into a sneer. Who did Barnes think he was? Touching what wasn’t his. He had his own… repugnant… person. They’d been obvious enough about it at the fundraiser. Holding hands. Dancing. It was enough to turn his stomach. _Disgusting._ “I wouldn’t worry about it, then. I don’t want to you to cut your evening short. Who else is going?” He asked, laying his disappointment on thick.

Now she felt bad. Darcy sat down on one of the concrete steps. She and Grant had been seeing each other for the past few months. Were they dating? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Did she have to check with him about stuff? She didn’t think they were there yet; he’d never said anything about being exclusive or talked about labels, so she’d left well enough alone. It wasn’t really a conversation she’d be running to have.

“Um, so far it’s me, Jamie, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Sam, Wanda. And Jane,” she listed, putting her elbow on her knee, chin in her palm. When she listed off everyone it really did sound like it was everyone _but_ him. “I can always check to see if I can get a plus one? You could come with us.”

“Jamie? You mean James? Sorry, I was a bit confused.” Since when had that mewling quim become ‘Jamie’?

“I appreciate you thinking of me, but I do have to attend the party at the house. Vice Presidential duties and all. I shouldn’t have waited to ask. Or assume.” He shouldn’t have to have been embarrassed by a woman that didn’t know her place. He saw her slumping, and a small smile lifted his lips. Good. She should feel bad.

“I should let you get back to studying. I’ll text tonight?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, for now, then,” he said, pulling the phone from his ear and pressing the little red circle to end the call. He watched as Darcy pulled the phone from her ear, stared at it for a second, then made her way back into the library. 

His mind was busy as he put the car into drive. Perhaps she wouldn’t be going alone, after all.

In the library, Darcy was still shivering as she plopped next to Jane, frowning at her phone.

“Who was that?” she asked, distracted. When Darcy just sighed, Jane looked up. “What? Everything ok? I mean, no, you’re making the _not okay_ face. What’s going on?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Darcy said, turning her phone off. There was nothing she could do about it now, and despite feeling bad, she was glad she’d be able to just enjoy herself with her friends and not have to worry about it being awkward. 

Well, _more_ awkward, seeing how she kept having dreams that left her waking up, gasping and aching for things she’d never get to experience and had no right thinking about. Blond hair flanked by dark locks, eyes and pouting lips, and the slide of skin against hers.

“So, when are we getting our costumes for Halloween? Soon? I can text Natasha? Maybe get Wanda’s number from Steve tomorrow?”

“You know I’m bad at costumes,” Jane sighed, letting the matter of the phone call go. Her friend seemed to be sporting the _not okay_ face more and more lately. Maybe shopping would help take her mind of whatever it was.

“That’s why I’ll be there to help! And the good thing is Natasha will have no trouble telling us if it looks horrible. Gotta love that Russian practicality.”

“Steve?”

Nothing.

“ _Steve_?”

Still nothing. Darcy paused, biting her lower lip. Despite her whispers, he hadn’t looked up. She didn’t want to bother him in the middle of whatever book he was in, chewing on the end of a pen, eyes darting back and forth across the page. The only sound she could hear were pens on paper and pages being turned. She’d been surprised to find him at the library this late. She had insomnia, but she wasn’t sure what his excuse was for being at the library at two in the morning. He actually hadn’t even looked up at her when she’d slid into the chair across from him and spread her book and notes on the table.

Darcy just needed a number out of his phone, so she could text Wanda and work on their costumes. It would only take her a second. It’d probably be better to just take it, really. That way they could maintain the quiet hush of the library. She whispered his name one more time, just so she could say she tried, before she reached for his phone. 

The screen was so smudged Darcy was surprised that he could see anything. She pressed the screen to make sure it was on, the lock screen just a picture of splattered ink. She’d expected something... Artier?

Whatever. Not the point. Halloween plans. Deviousness. 

She swiped her finger to unlock the damn thing, shaking her head when no PIN was needed, _Really Steve? god_... and immediately felt all of the blood in her face relocate and begin pulsing between her legs.

_Oh, Holy Moses. The Magdelene. All thirteen tribes._

Steve had obviously been texting with Bucky, seeing as it was the open application after she unlocked it.

Steve had been sending pictures.

Of himself.

Of those deep blue eyes staring right into the screen, blush high on his cheeks. Those lips, on that often too serious face, were slightly open, like he had just whispered someone's name.

Bucky’s name.

He really did blush all the way down that beautiful chest, Irish skin pale and ruddy. Darcy followed the line of color until... she really couldn’t help the quick intake of breath at the sight. Steve’s hand was wrapped around his very hard cock, just the tip of it peeking out of his fist. 

_Oh. My. God._

The next photo, because of course one wasn’t enough, was obviously _after_ he was done. His face totally relaxed, a soft smile playing on his lips, sweat just starting to bead at his temples. 

She pressed the home button with a huff of air, opening his contacts and scribbling down Wanda’s number at the top of her page of notes. Her hand slipped as she tried to lock the damn thing - all she had wanted was a fucking phone number, not proof that her dreams were closer to the truth than she’d thought - and it clattered as it hit the table near Steve.

Steve looked up, startled at the loud noise. He wasn’t the only one, as several other faces turned to look over as the near-silence of the library had been shattered.

“ _Fuck_! Sorry!” Darcy hissed, casting apologetic looks in all directions, almost feeling faint with how much the blood in her body was shifting. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.” Embarrassment tinted her cheeks pink, but the memory of the photos she’d seen moved everything south, where it pounded with arousal.

She caught Steve’s widened eyes and the words vomited forth. “I’m sorry. I saw you sitting here, I had insomnia and came here, and you were here and I sat down and said your name, but you must not have heard me, so I was fine sitting here while we read and I studied, then I remembered I needed Wanda’s number from you so we could invite her to go shopping for costumes with me, Jane and Natasha.” 

Steve’s eyes widened again, this time because she hadn’t taken a breath and was still going.

“And so I called your name, but the book you’re reading must be very good because you didn’t hear it, so I just grabbed the phone to get it instead of bothering you, so I got the number and now we’re good. Sorry.” She took a deep, gasping breath, sucking in air.

Steve reached over and took Darcy’s hand in his own.

“Darce, it’s fine. You just startled me. I was so focused on this I didn’t even notice you come in. _I’m_ sorry.” He glared at the other people still starting until they went back to their own work.

“Bucky’s trying to work out some engineering problem, and he has to pace and talk and walk around and I cannot get shit done when he’s like that. I’m really glad that you’re going to hang out with Wanda. She’s awesome. Her brother is kind of intense, but she’s really cool. If she likes you enough she makes sweets from her grandmother’s recipes. Oh, god, I could kill for a brownie and I swear I am not high.”

The way he answered her babble with one of his own made her smile. Feeling slightly mollified, Darcy squeezed his hand in return. Somehow he could make things better. “If she’s your friend and Sam likes her, then she’s in our group. And if she’s in the group, then that means she gets to come laugh with us and find ridiculous costumes. Maybe I’ll be able to talk her into making brownies for your birthday. It’s not long now, is it?”

He shook his head. “All Souls Day. November second. No more making puppy dog eyes for you guys to slip me drinks when no one's looking.” 

Nevermind Ascending. He had to bite back his words to keep from blurting it all out at Darcy. Looking into her hazel eyes, he found himself wanting to tell her everything. But not just the important stuff. Just… little stuff. Shirts he saw that he thought she’d like. A new kind of energy drink at the store with the ridiculous name. Something that would make her smile at him like she was smiling at him now. “I’m not going to get any more of this done. Wanna go to the diner and eat shitty food until we can pretend we’re tired enough to sleep?”

Darcy smiled, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Yes, please.”

“I want to know why I can’t go dressed as a prima ballerina. I have dressed as one every Halloween since I was twelve. Why mess with tradition?” Natasha said, travel cup of properly made tea in her left hand, the other gracefully holding her sunglasses as she pointed at Darcy.

“You have the chance to wear something amazing at a party that people have _literally_ killed for,” Darcy saw Jane flinch in her peripheral vision at her inaccurate use of the word _literally_ , “so why go with the same thing you’ve done? Besides, a semi-matching costume with your friends? This is the thing you tell your future children about!”

Jane shook her head with a small smile. She knew Darcy loved Halloween, but it just wasn’t translating for Natasha, not that she could be blamed. Jane hated coming up with costumes, always feeling like nobody got what she’d been going for. _No one_ had appreciated her simple white shirt with the words **404 Error: Costume Not Found** written on the front that she’d worn freshman year at Trinity.

She’d thought it’d been very clever.

“But what even _is_ Steampunk?”

“I did research,” Jane said, ignoring the way Darcy rolled her eyes knowingly. “The outfits tend to be from Victorian England, corsets and coat tails would fit. Most of the stuff is anachronistic, so it looks old but it has hints of new machinery that doesn’t match the time period. If it looks industrial and old, with hints of copper, bronze, and gold, then you’re on the right track.”

Darcy was almost positive Jane’d gotten that explanation straight off the internet and then had spent the next few hours looking at pictures and verifying sources.

“Science fiction and fantasy,” Wanda added, pulling a hanger from one of the racks to take a closer look. “But really, you can make any Edwardian outfit into it by adding a few gears and LED lights.”

“Mmhmm. I am not wearing a fucking corset,” Natasha said evenly, pulling a black swooshy thing and holding it up to herself. She tapped her fist lightly against Jane’s proffered one.

“Have you actually opened the link Steve sent everyone? He has some really good ideas. I think he’ll even paint some things for us if we ask nicely enough,” Wanda put the piece back down.

“Aren’t you getting an art degree?”

“Yes. Which is why I’ll help with gears. I can’t sew worth crap. I hear Clint’s good with his hands,” Wanda said out of the side of her mouth.

“Yea, but have you _seen_ his arms?” Darcy and Jane said in unison, turning to look at each other with large grins.

Natasha’s mouth turned up but she took a quick drink of her tea to mask it.

“I’ve always been partial to fingers,” Wanda said, walking toward the next aisle full of gauze and taffeta.

Darcy just turned to Jane with wide eyes. This was _awesome_. It’d been just the two of them for so long, best friends and confidants, but since they’d met the boys and started acquiring more and more people, everything seemed to get better. She was having a blast just hanging out with the girls. _The girls_. She had girls!

“I’ve seen them all naked,” Jane blurted.

The noise that tore from Darcy’s throat made several people in the costume shop turn to look in their direction. Uncaring, she reached out and pinched Jane in the arm.

“ _Ow_!”

“How _dare_ you! That is Natasha’s -” Darcy stopped mid sentence, hazel eyes sliding to Natasha with a questioning look. “Your boyfriend? Lover? Squirrel-like fanboy?”

Wanda laughed, looking between the three with a smile. Pietro was going to love this.

“My _Clint_ ,” Natasha instructed with a sharp smile, “and I’m positive she is lying through her teeth.”

“Guilty as charged,” Jane admitted.

“I mean, I’ve seen _some_ things. Oh! Wings!” Darcy wandered down one of the aisles toward a set of black wings that had caught her eye.

“ _What_?” Jane asked. She’d been joking about seeing them naked, of course, but something in the way Darcy had said that wasn’t reading as false.

“What about this?” Darcy said, pulling at the costume next to the wings. “It’s gold.”

“We could definitely made it work,” Wanda said, nodding at the bit of armor. “He might have to dirty it up a bit. And you’ll probably be the only one with _black_ wings. Some sort of punky, rebel, fallen angel warrior?”

“I believe he was called _The Morning Star_ ,” Darcy said, trying to imagine what else she’d wear with the wings and armor, “and he had no where _near_ my amount of cleavage.”

“Not many do, Darcy Anne,” Jane added, squinting, trying to find something for herself. “I hope Steve can find something that fits. Anyone else notice he’s been growing like a teenager?”

Darcy choked, covering it with a cough, memories of his text to Bucky flashing to mind.

Wanda was too busy texting pictures to Steve to notice. “Yeah. I mean, he was never really _tiny_ , but he’s almost taller than James now, isn’t he?”

Natasha shrugged. “You’ve known him longer.”

“Huh,” Jane mused. “Weird.”

Steve knew they had a long night ahead of them. Between Bucky’s excitement over the holiday, and the group outing at the Twain House, one-on-one time would be hard to find. All of that meant was that he was more than happy to stay in bed, wrapped around his lover’s body, limbs entwined and breath warm as it fanned over his skin.

He could feel that Bucky was still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily under Steve’s cheek. The blond closed his eyes and focused on the body beneath him. He knew he should let Bucky sleep, but it was hard for his hands _not_ to wander, especially as he knew Bucky was bare under the sheets, perfect for fingers to dip into the hollow of his hips, scratch over the muscles of his abs, and feel them bunch under his touch. He ran his fingers lightly over Bucky’s nose, tracing the line of his jaw down to his collar bones, fingers finally resting in the hollow of his throat.

“Mmm, that feels nice, lamby toes,” Bucky said, stretching slowly into Steve, enjoying the feel of his skin against his boyfriend’s. He smelled like sleep and sex and _Steve_. Steve wasn’t wearing anything under the sheets, either, and one hand snuck over to lightly tug at Steve’s hip in a half-assed embrace. He could tell that the sun wasn’t up just yet, and he wanted to snuggle into Steve and doze for forever.

“Are you quoting _Firefly_ at me? I mean, I have no problem being Gina Torres, but I feel like it’s a lot to live up to,” Steve chuckled into Bucky’s shoulder. He loved how his head just seemed to fit into the dip of his collarbone and chest. 

“Was that _Firefly_?” Bucky said, smirking up toward the ceiling as his hand chased up and down Steve’s back, pausing at the curve of his ass before heading back up toward his shoulder blades. “Do you know what day it is?”

When he felt Steve sigh against his chest, he couldn’t help how much bigger his grin grew. “Double double…”

“You are nothing but trouble Barnes. Delicious, delightful, decadent, deviant trouble,” Steve said before tipping his head up to press his lips against Bucky’s. It was lazy, slow, but thorough, their mouths slanting easily with long breaths and sighs as they wrapped around each other. Steve traced over Bucky’s back, feeling how his shoulder blades moved as his hands cupped Steve’s ass. He didn’t feel any rush, even though want was curling through his body.

“That was a mouthful of alliteration,” Bucky hummed against Steve’s lips, blinking as he looked into the blue of Steve’s eyes from inches away. They were the prettiest cornflower blue, but now they looked like cobalt, darker with the lust and heat he could feel and knew were darkening his own. 

The changes in Steve over the past few weeks had been a wonder to watch. He’d observed his love grow into his body, becoming more and more confident as the hours ticked by. He was so close now and Bucky could feel the hum just under Steve’s skin, like a current of electricity just below the surface. Steve was practically glowing with it, and it was attractive as hell. All that power, strong and pulsing, waiting to be released. “Are you hungry? We could grab something to eat before we head to the hotel?”

“That’s hours from now,” Steve said, snuggling deeper into the bed. He rubbed his ankles along Bucky’s calf, enjoying the feel of crisp hair and skin. Bucky felt almost cool against him, and Steve welcomed the chill. He hoped running this warm wasn’t going to be a permanent change. Bucky looked so enticing. with his eyes hooded with sleep and lust, his hair falling into almost curls, sticking up every which way. Steve’s fingers itched for his camera or a pencil to catch the image he saw before him.

“Besides, the sun isn’t even up yet. Need snuggles for strength.”

“You’ve had one thing or another in your mouth for weeks now,” Bucky said. When he felt Steve laugh against his chest, his lips turned upward. “ _Food_ , Rogers. You ate three plates of pasta last night. And that was _after_ an entire large pizza for lunch.”

Bucky remembered his and Clint’s appetite before their change, but Steve’s was putting them both to shame. That he was now _bigger_ than any of them was a surprise, but not an unhappy one. Steve was now broad, and when Bucky’s hands took their time exploring his body, he could feel the strength beneath his skin. “But now that you mention it…”

Bucky pulled Steve’s face toward him, biting at his lower lip, his fingers sliding over Steve’s skin, scratching over the muscles, strong and lean.

“And you say I’ve been the one with something always in my mouth. You’re just as bad as me,” Steve said against Bucky’s mouth, still chuckling. “I’m not complaining, please don’t stop.”

“I can’t help it, you’re just so gorgeous. All that skin, your _mouth_ , Jesus, your mouth,” Bucky replied before pulling Steve back in and licking the seam of his lips, feeling Steve shift his hips. Bucky threw his leg over Steve and turned them so Steve was on his back.

Steve ran his hands down Bucky’s back to his hips, curving over his ass and just resting there. His hands, finally matching the rest of his body, covered almost the entire sweet curve of Bucky’s hips, and Steve loved how just the lightest brush of his fingers drove Bucky to distraction.

Between their lovemaking last night and the attraction already curling in his body, Bucky was already prepped, and feeling Steve pressed against him made his eyes flutter closed. He felt Steve’s hands squeeze his ass, pulling his cheeks apart. He savored the feeling, his eyes falling closed, hearing the _pop_ of the bottle of slick opening, then the cool feeling of Steve’s slicked up fingers curling and pressing. One second more and Steve lined himself up, Bucky’s body shuddering at the slow intrusion. It just took a shift of his hips to slot Steve against him, lowering his body onto Steve’s, his body aching with the slow movement.

As he stretched around Steve, Bucky watched the heat fill his lover’s eyes, saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “ _Fuck_ , Steve, you feel so good.”

“God, so do you sweetheart, taking me so good. Right there, right like that,” Steve breathed out as Bucky sank all the way down on his dick, hot and slick and tight. Steve pulled Bucky down to his chest, wrapping his arms around his torso and back, bringing his knees up so that they were as wrapped around each other as they could possibly be. 

Steve rocked up into Bucky slowly, barely even moving, like a slow breath in and out. He looked into Bucky’s stormy grey eyes, pupils blown wide and dark lashes framing them so perfectly, and saw love and want and affection reflected in them. Steve brought a hand to the back of Bucky’s head, tugging the strands and pulling him down to nuzzle into the sensitive spot right behind Bucky’s ear. 

Bucky was in no rush as his breath fanned against Steve’s neck, and he allowed himself to just enjoy the feeling of being so full and complete, his body sheathing Steve, wrapped around him. He spun his hips just the slightest bit, grinding down against Steve, and the sound Steve made at the back of his throat was the sexiest thing Bucky had ever heard.

“Wanna stay here like this,” Bucky breathed, pulling Steve’s earlobe between his teeth and biting down, Steve hissing with the small bite of pain, “you inside me, stretching me, making me feel so good.”

Running his nails down Bucky’s back gave Steve the satisfaction of Bucky’s gasp and whimpers of pleasure. It was so goddamned hot to hear that noise right in his ear, those quiet sounds of smoldering need. Bucky was hot and hard, trapped between their stomachs, and Steve could feel the smear of wetness from Bucky’s tip. He ran his nails back up Bucky’s back, pressing hard enough to leave marks.

“Want you right here, filling you up, feeling you so hot and right around me. Love hearing you. This is everything, _you’re_ everything. I love you, so fucking much.”

The sun was barely up, just the first rays slipping through the windows, but it lit Steve’s face beautifully, leaving it like some kind of work of art, cheeks flushed and lips parted in passion. It took everything Bucky had not to cry out, biting his lip as he lifted himself on his knees then lowered, jutting his hips against Steve, drawing a sigh from Steve’s lips. 

The fingers on his hips tightened with every movement, hard enough that they’d leave marks, and Bucky _wanted_ them to. He loved knowing he’d been marked by Steve, marked as _his_ , even if no one else saw them. When they faded he knew he’d seek more, begging Steve to replace them with new ones.

Power thrummed along Steve’s spine, along his fingers, just sparking over Bucky’s skin as he stroked everywhere he could touch. He thought he could actually feel Bucky’s heartbeat where he was wrapped around him, so close, so intimate. 

“Wanna hear you, love,” Steve asked, voice just shy of begging. He could feel the pressure at the base of his spine, feel his balls draw closer to his body as his dick pounded with each beat of his heart. His hip stuttered up when Bucky licked along his collarbone and then bit the flesh below it. Steve knew it would leave a mark and he craved it, craved proof that he was Bucky’s, that he belonged to someone. 

Slow and languid movements gave way to something more desperate, more kinetic. Bucky was slipping against his lover, lifting and dropping, each sink of his body on Steve’s making his cry out. He said Steve’s name over and over until it started to sound like gibberish, like a keening sound of want as it echoed in the early morning sunlight. 

When Steve’s hand snaked between their bodies, fingers wrapping around his cock and spreading the dripping precome with his thumb, Bucky shouted, the feeling of Steve pumping in and out of him while his hand matched the pace was going to make him lose control soon. “ _Steve_ , yes, fuck me, yes please, gonna come.”

Steve couldn’t get any words out at first, just a low moan, Bucky’s voice making Steve _want_ as his stomach twisted in tight knots. He held Bucky with his free hand, keeping him from moving on his own, just having to take what Steve was giving him. Steve smirked at Bucky’s groan of frustration, feeling him tighten his muscles and trying to move his hips up and down.

“No, love, just take it, just let it come, slow and easy, that’s it love. Want this to last forever, you riding me, taking me so good, all stretched and wrecked. That’s good, just a little longer, god you’re beautiful, wanna draw you like this and show everyone you’re _mine_ and this is only for us. Jesus, Bucky.”

Bucky was a mess, biting his lip in concentration, eyes screwing shut as he placed his hands on Steve’s chest for support. He felt like he was being pulled apart in the best way, taut like a rubber band that was going to snap. The words Steve spoke, the _mouth_ on him, was going to be his complete and utter downfall. He would never get over the sound of his name on Steve’s lips, the way his breath hitched slightly as he pronounced the ‘k’ in Bucky.

When Steve asked if he was alright, Bucky nodded, too focused on the feeling of Steve moving against him, inside him, their skin sliding with such heat. Insatiable, their bodies becoming one, over and over.

“You’re gonna come just from this, just from me fucking you, my dick in that tight little ass of yours. Want you to feel me in you all day,” Steve growled as he tugged Bucky against him, nipping along his neck before crashing their lips together. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to last, and he wanted Bucky to come first. Steve _needed_ him to come first, so he could watch Bucky fall apart. “You can do it, love, I know you can come like this for me.”

He hadn't needed the encouragement, already looking over the edge of his pleasure, just a few inches from tumbling over the precipice. Bucky opened his eyes, looking down into Steve’s, his heart rate speeding as he saw the fire inside his love, burning hotter and brighter every second. 

“Just you, pushing into me, filling me,” Bucky groaned, leaning forward enough to catch Steve’s mouth, tongue tasting and breathing ragged. “So close.”

It was too much, it was suddenly too much for Steve and he slammed Bucky down, Power flitting into him and twisting to make Bucky shout in surprise as he came, mouth dropping open as he nearly screamed Steve’s name and fucked himself down onto Steve over and over again as he came all over Steve’s chest. Steve pushed with Power again, drawing out Bucky’s orgasm as Steve found his own, stilling in Bucky and seeing stars dance across his vision.

“Uh, uh, Bucky, oh my god, _fuckfuckfuck_ , a-ah,” Steve shouted, body bowing back as he tried to get Bucky as close to him as possible.

Bucky felt like he was one giant nerve, every breath Steve made singing into him and making him jump and react. He gasped when he felt an aftershock rock through him, and he gripped at Steve’s hair with his fingers, the sweaty strands grounding him. “ _Fuck_ , Steve. That was… _damn_.”

“Lazy morning sex is the best idea you’ve had today, Barnes,” Steve huffed out, trying to catch his breath between little twitches of aftershock. _Jesus_. “How .. so good.. Goddamn. God. Damn.” Everything was so sensitive that Bucky’s hands in his hair made him feel on fire, the rub of his nipples on Steve’s chest, the hair on his legs: _everything_ shot little bolts of need through him.

Grinning, his cheek resting on Steve’s chest, Bucky dug his nails into Steve’s neck the slightest bit. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to move the rest of the day.” He laid there, basking in the afterglow, listening as Steve’s heartbeat returned to a normal rate. The steady _thumpthump_ was soothing and Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, content and happy and so _so_ fulfilled. 

“But it’s Halloween, Bucky. The most wonderful day of the year. I mean, I’m happy to spend all day with you in bed. Seeing how many times I can make you come until you’re begging me to stop and I get at least one more out of you,” Steve replied, dropping a kiss on Bucky’s hair.

Despite his ravenous appetite for Steve, and the _desperate want_ that filled him with the scene Steve’s words formed in his head, Bucky couldn’t help but lift his head and grin at his lover, a manic happiness in the grey of his eyes. “Halloween. _Halloween_ , Steve! The Great Pumpkin. Bats and spiderwebs and costumes and dancing.”

There weren’t many things that Bucky loved more than October thirty-first, but the man sprawled beneath him was one. He stretched his neck, Steve’s lips meeting his, satisfied and humming. “We should shower. Halloween waits for no man.”

“I see where I stand. Fine, but I want waffles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com)


	14. Toil And Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _You are an ally because of your actions, not because you say you are. (Kate Schatz)_ ”  
> ― **Carolina De Robertis, Radical Hope: Letters of Love and Dissent in Dangerous Times**
> 
>  **Warning:** Ward is violent with Darcy. She hits him back. The boys get protective.

“I think we may have lost her to the sea,” Steve commented, setting his phone down on the counter of the bathroom and putting it on speaker. He caught a glimpse of Bucky behind him, still dripping from their shared shower and looked his fill before turning back to the sink to shave.

“What do you mean? Lost who?” Bucky’s voice was muffled from where he was scrubbing his hair dry with a towel.

“I’m letting you know, that I am never, _ever_ leaving this bathtub. We have come to know each other Biblically, and must wed to preserve my virtue,” Darcy said, loud enough for Jane to hear in the other room.

They heard the warm sound of Jane’s laugh come over the speaker.

“Don’t judge me, Janey. It’s not my fault you decided to use the shower like a peasant.”

Bucky leered at Steve before smacking his ass playfully as he walked into the open room.

“I didn’t feel the least bit plebeian in the shower, did you Steve?”

“I felt a lot of things in the shower, but not a plebe.”

“We get it, your sex life is amazing, _jeez_ , shut up about it already!” They could hear the sloshing of water as Darcy laughed. Steve shook his head at himself in the mirror, spreading the lather over his face. 

“Do you need any help with getting your costume on? The wings?” Steve could hear when Darcy picked up the phone and carried it with her.

“No. I think Jane’s got it. Right Jane?” He heard a muffled response and Darcy’s laughter.

“What’d she say?”

“ _I said she’s like an evil Big Bird!_ ”

Steve braced himself on the counter as he laughed, glancing up to see Bucky lean against the door to the bathroom in his briefs. “Did she just say evil Big Bird?”

“There are worse things to look like!” Jane shouted.

“Like what, Janey?”

“Like your mom!”

“Gotta go, guys, need you to be my alibi and plausible deniability - get back here Jane Foster!”

Steve was still chuckling when Darcy hung up the phone. Bucky had his face in his hand and his shoulders her shaking with laughter. “Tonight is going to be so much fun.”

An hour, and one impromptu dance party later, Darcy was reapplying the bright red color to her lips. “You almost ready?”

“Getting there,” Jane said, wandering into the bathroom to get help with the leather bracers on her arms. In a few short minutes, both of their costumes had come together. The gold armor and feathers at Darcy’s shoulders were fluffed and shining, all of Jane’s leather pieces for her archer looking sufficiently soft and supple. 

Darcy looked at them both in the mirror for a final time. She ran her hands down the fitted corset-like armor that hugged her curves, making sure she wasn’t falling out anywhere. It was always a possibility with her, but Jane had pulled the corset very tight in an effort to avoid any kind of wardrobe malfunction.

“Jane, you’re ridiculously hot. Like a golden, gorgeous Robin Hood. Professor McHottie isn’t going to know what hit him.”

“If you could avoid using that name around him tonight, I’d appreciate it,” Jane said with a small smile, reaching up to push a bit of Darcy’s hair behind her ear. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Darcy had put a lot of thought and energy into her costume. She and Steve had spent a few good afternoons in the common room in her dorm, meticulously painting gears and cogs, and making sure the feathers on her wings would stay in for at least the evening. “I’ve gotten Snaps from Tasha and Wanda already. I think the hotness quotient is going to be off the charts. I am _so_ excited for this party, I can’t even tell you.”

Jane looked over at Darcy with a knowing smile. “I don’t even know what to expect from this place,” Jane said. She’d done research on the house, of course, as well as the society that hosted the ball, but everything seemed to be shrouded in secrecy. This only piqued her interest further and had her on pins and needles. She was usually one who craved structure and knowledge, but she had to admit the possibilities were exciting. 

“Clint just texted that they’re all down in the lobby. He says they have some kind of surprise?”

“Uh oh.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Why do you keep insisting on costumes that have this many damn layers, Steve?”

“Wouldn’t want you to catch a chill, my hothouse flower,” Steve’s reply was muffled by the faux jeweled stick pin in his mouth. “How often do you get to say you’re wearing a cravat, anyways?” He fussed with the way the dark burgundy fabric lay around Bucky’s neck for a few minutes more, and then fastened the pin. “I think you’re done.” 

“It’s about damn time. We need to get downstairs. I used to be punctual before you, punk,” Bucky teased Steve. He grabbed the box laying on the bed and tugged Steve in for a kiss, gasping and pulling back when a spark popped between their lips.

“Ow, dammit Steve.”

Steve winced, reaching up to press fingers against his lips. “It’s not like I can help it, Buck,” he said with a small frown. His entire body had felt like a live wire for the past few days, everything leading up to his birthday. In addition to electricity that felt like lightning under his skin, he’d also been unable to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. He’d used the time for good, sketching and studying and preparing for classes, but he also felt like a taut rubber band. He was worried he’d snap any second.

“I know,” Bucky said, reaching out to thread his fingers with Steve’s. He’d seen the tension and anxiety in his lover ramp up in the mad dash to his birthday. The next two days were going to be the hardest. There was a look in Steve’s eyes, pupils dilated and taking everything in; it reminded him of when they were young and ate _way_ too much sugar and caffeine. He was amped, full of energy, and sparking - literally and figuratively - in every movement.

“Let’s go wait for the girls.”

“You got me flowers, James? You didn’t have to. Our love is a secret love, no need to flaunt it,” Clint grinned as he picked out a Boutonniere and the single flower for Natasha’s hair that he’d ordered from the box Bucky held.

Handing off the open box to Sam, Bucky grabbed Clint, dipped him, and gave him a sloppy kiss. “ _Mon amour_.”

“James - that’s French!”

“I’d thought by now y’all would be less weird. Nope. Just keeps getting weirder,” Sam grinned, pulling out his phone. “This is so going up on FaceBook.”

“It’s Halloween,” Bucky said, posing with Clint as Sam took their picture. He set the blond upright and reached out to hug Sam, who protested the embrace with slapping hands. “It’s _supposed_ to be weird!”

“Has he been like this all day?” Clint asked, shaking his head as Bucky continued to hold onto Sam. 

“All. Day.” Steve smiled, practically bouncing on his feet. 

Clint was saying something about an episode of _The Dog Whisperer_ when the elevator dinged. All four of the men turned in sync to watch as the women poured free. 

The girls were laughing at something Darcy had said about Professor Odinson, if Jane’s face was any indication, and Bucky was certain she hadn’t used his proper title of ‘Professor Odinson’, but her more colorful nickname of _Professor McHottie_. 

“ _Woooooow_ ,” came from Clint, his mouth dropping open as he spotted Natasha. All of the boys wore similar expressions of appreciation as they took in everyone’s costumes. 

“Right back at ya,” Darcy said, grinning at the boys and their suits. She’d been afraid of overdressing, but it appeared everyone fit together perfectly. They all had a hint of gold or bronze, something that made them stand out. As far as group costumes went, she thought they’d nailed it.

Steve bowed low, hand outstretched as he glanced up at all of them. “Ladies. May we request the honor of your presence this fine All Hallow’s Eve?”

Wanda laughed and both Jane and Natasha raised eyebrows at his show. Darcy didn’t have a skirt, choosing to stick with dark, soft leggings that led into knee-high boots, but she mimed a curtsy in his direction. “We accept, my Lords,” she answered, Jane rolling her eyes to Darcy’s right.

Steve looked up at her from his bow, a grin turning his lips. Darcy looked stunning, exactly as he’d hoped it would turn out. He reached out and pulled her toward him, pressing his lips to her knuckles. “You look amazing, Darce.”

Her smile brightened. “I had some help.”

Bucky was just staring at Steve and Darcy, unable to help the look on his face. They both looked amazing. Steve like something right out of a Victorian novel, and Darcy like a Viking princess escorting them both to Valhalla. 

“Ah, before I forget, one last piece to complete your costume,” Steve said, pulling something small and metallic out of his breast pocket. It was a small flower made of gears, on a hair comb, and he slid it behind Darcy’s ear with a huge smile.

“There, perfect.”

Darcy reached up and ran her fingers over the bit of metal, smiling up at Steve. They’d been working together on her costume, spending time just the two of them, and it’d been great to have some quality time with the blond. He was funny, kind, and had a mouth that dropped swear words like she’d never heard before. He was a great guy and, time after time, she was grateful she’d seen him across the classroom and decided that he was the partner she wanted.

“Steve’s right. Perfect. You did an amazing job, Darce,” Bucky grinned.

She felt her stomach flip just the tiniest bit, and chose to ignore it. 

“Sirs, whenever you’re ready,” came a voice near the lobby entrance.

Bucky face was bright with mischief, and he had to keep himself from giggling. This was probably the favorite part of his plans for everyone this evening. Grabbing Steve and Darcy’s hands, he tugged them into the perfect Halloween night. He’d only had to push the smallest amount of Power for the skies to remain clear, another thought had led to a soft fog rolling over the hills near the road. “Our transportation for the evening.”

Darcy stopped short, tugging on Bucky’s hand. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve always wanted to ride in a carriage!”

“I think this may be the most ridiculously awesome thing you’ve ever done for Halloween.”

“Even more than the time he ate -”

“ _Yes, Barton_.”

The driver cleared his throat quietly, opening the door to help the ladies into the coach, and the boys after. He showed them the blankets at their feet before hopping up and clicking his tongue to the horses as they began to move. 

Bucky felt the air in the carriage warm to just below comfortable, and he saw the black and fire disappear from Clint’s eyes. The sandy blond just shrugged at him, draping his arm behind Natasha.

It took a few minutes for Darcy to get comfortable in the front, sandwiched between Steve and Bucky. Her shoulders were a bit wider than she was used to, and she ended up having to sit closer to Steve and turn slightly. It wasn’t a hardship in any way, but she did let out a gasp when a shock of electricity shot between her and Steve. “ _Oh_!”

Steve looked over at her apologetically. “Must be the static electricity from the blanket,” he said, reaching out to run his hand over the skin where he’d shocked her. Bucky made a small bit of noise, something close to a laugh, and Steve glared in his direction.

They got interested looks from everyone as they rode by, several children pointing at them as they ran from door to door, asking for candy. Steve’s soft glare had melted into a wide grin and his toe tapped out a rhythm as they travelled. It didn’t matter what he did, the energy coursing through his body needed an outlet.

“Are you cold?” Darcy asked, hazel eyes looking at the slight redness in his cheeks and the way he was vibrating. He was wearing _much_ more clothing than she had on, but he moved like he was shivering.

“I’m fine. Just excited.”

His smile was infectious, something shifting behind his eyes that she couldn’t place, but Darcy found herself grinning along with him. 

The neighborhoods they rode through became canopied by large trees, blotting out the moonlight and casting eerie shadows into the darkness. The houses grew larger and farther apart until you couldn’t even see the home from the street, only the driveway paths lit by row after row of lamp posts until those, too, faded into black.

“I haven’t been to this part of the city before,” Natasha said.

“Me neither,” Darcy said, face toward the rolling hills and the fog creeping over it all. “What was it like growing up out here?”

“Boring,” Bucky said, stretching to put an arm across the back of their seat, fingers playing with the feathers on Darcy’s costume. “Most of the time we were outside, causing trouble. Anything was better than being at home.”

“Playing in the dirt, riding bikes. Building a treehouse…”

“... _trying_ to build a treehouse.” Sam corrected Clint.

Steve snickered into Bucky’s shoulder, shaking his head as his lover told the story. His imitation of old Captain Harkness was always spot on.

“And he had the _meanest_ damn cat. It would chase Steve around like a damn dog, and poor Steve’s allergies, making him sneeze the entire time. You could hear yowling and sneezing down the block.”

“Thanks, Bucky, for painting me even more gracefully than I already am.”

Darcy was wheezing with laughter, the music of the band filling the room with enough noise that they were pressed together to hear over it. The people around them were laughing, dancing, having an amazing time, just like she was. The party was something else and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to top it. Everyone else had gone to as much trouble for their costumes as they had, and she felt comfortable and welcomed by everyone even though they were strangers.

“Please tell me there’s video.”

“Of course there is. That mean puss chased Steven home damn near everyday ‘til it died,“ came a soft voice with an Irish accent from Steve’s left side. Darcy’s eyes widened at the newcomer, instantly pegging her as Steve’s mother. She felt a thread of nervousness in her stomach, though wasn’t sure _why_ she was anxious about meeting the woman, other than wanting to make a good first impression.

“Ma! I didn’t know if I’d see you,” Steve said, dropping a kiss on her upturned cheek. Sarah Rogers was a petite, trim woman, her sunny blonde hair styled in intricate curls and waves. Anyone who looked at Sarah was seeing Steve’s blue eyes in her face. It was clear where he’d gotten his looks. 

“You thought you wouldn't see me? More like you thought you wouldn’t look for me as long as you had champagne in your hand. It’s not quite your birthday, love. And a Happy Hallowe’en to you, James. I hope you - and here I am being rude and not introducing myself to this lovely lady.” She elbowed Steve softly in the ribs. “And _you_ not introducing her. I’m Sarah Rogers, this boy’s long-suffering mother.” Her dark eyes twinkled with amusement.

Darcy shook Sarah’s hand with a large smile. “Darcy Lewis. It’s very nice to meet you. They’ve told me stories. But only good ones, I promise,” she added, laughing when Steve gave her a look of slight panic over Sarah’s shoulder. 

“Darcy’s in our group for History,” Steve explained, “we let her in because she knows the TA.”

“Liar,” Darcy hissed, the sound followed by a wide grin.

“And you’re making sure these boys are holding their own?” Sarah asked, looking knowingly at both Steve and Bucky.

“Oh, trust me, she has _no problem_ putting us in our place. She can be quite scary when she wants to be.” Bucky said, grinning in Darcy’s direction.

“Well, you need it, James Buchanan.”

 _Buchanan?_ Darcy mouthed at Steve. He nodded, grin bright. Darcy wrinkled her nose in glee. That was _definitely_ coming back to haunt him. She was going to give him so much shit about being named after the most boring president, ever. She took a step backward as another gorgeous woman approached the four of them.

“Hi, Ma.”

“Don’t you _‘Hi, Ma,’_ me, young man,” the tall woman said to Bucky, pulling him into a hug. “You haven’t been home for supper in a _month_ of Sundays.”

“Ma, it’s fine.” Bucky pulled back, his arm sweeping toward Darcy. “Darcy, this is my ma, Winifred Barnes. Ma, this is Darcy Lewis.” When Steve looked at him with an amused expression, Bucky rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

“Don’t be a brat, James,” Sarah popped at him with her clutch, “or it’ll be no gingerbread men for you at Christmas.”

Darcy grinned, looking between the two women. They were smiling and wearing heavy velvet dresses with petticoats, a matching gorgeous hat perched on the top of beautifully styled hair. Even more, they were _so much_ like Bucky and Steve that it was incredible. It wasn’t hard to see where the boys had gotten their gorgeous features and striking wit.

“Oh, there’s Katherine Bowers, spiking the damn punch, again. Can’t she at least use _good_ vodka? I’ve got to deal with that, dears. Do come catch me again before you leave, hmm?” Winifred dropped a kiss on Steve’s cheek before pulling an eye rolling Sarah behind her.

“So… those are your moms?”

“Dad always calls her ‘Hurricane Fred.’,” Bucky supplied. “That was them at a ‘pretty normal’ level.”

“They’re awesome,” Darcy said, watching at the two women were swallowed by the crowd. She turned back to Steve and Bucky with squinting eyes. “Gotta wonder what happened with you two, though. Apples and trees and all that.” She laughed and feigned a cry of pain when Steve reached out and bopped her nose. 

Darcy drank what was left in her glass and cast a glance toward the tables where the drinks were laid out. “I’m going to get another drink. And maybe ask your moms for the most embarrassing stories about you that they can think of…” She walked backwards, leveling a mischievous smirk at them as she left.

Steve laughed, shaking his head as he turned to Bucky. “I told you she’d be angry about Sunday dinners.”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right,” Bucky said, eyes scanning the crowd gathered. His fingers itched to reach out and touch Steve, but he kept his hands to himself for the moment. The blond looked delicious in his costume and with the energy he was expending, he was almost glowing. Bucky couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of him.

He took another sip from his champagne, gaze turning to scan the room. The band’s music filled the air, haunting and perfect for the occasion. Several people were on the floor, spinning along, and he spotted Clint and Natasha in the middle. Natasha was beautiful, moving to the music like the trained dancer she was, and Clint was surprisingly able to keep up with her. 

Bucky turned back to look at Steve, feeling the heat from the man at his side, hungry for his touch. “Do you think there’s anyone else we have to say hello to, or did you think we could disappear for a few minutes?”

“I see your dad over with Senator Blumenthal, so I think we’re good,” Steve replied, following Bucky’s eyes. He smiled as he watched Sam and Wanda at the side of the room, near one of the doors, heads close together, Sam playing with a tendril of Wanda’s now red-tipped hair.

“What did you have in mind, hmmm?” He bumped his shoulder into Bucky’s.

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, nodding toward the large staircase toward the back of the room. “There have to be a bunch of empty, quiet rooms upstairs we can explore.” His hand snaked into Steve’s jacket, fingers sliding over the brocade vest that laid beneath.

They’d started toward the stairs when the lights above them flashed twice. Bucky looked up, then glanced at Steve with a raised eyebrow. _Was that you?_ he asked Steve.

 _Probably._ , Steve answered, eyebrows knitting together. He looked around the room, but didn’t see anything out of place. He turned back to Bucky with a shrug of his shoulders. A knowing smile flowed onto his lips and he tugged at Bucky’s hand.

He led Bucky up the stairs, passing several people on the way and giving them curt nods and reassuring smiles. Most everyone was wearing some type of mask, giving an air of anonymity that Steve took full advantage of. It was easy enough to find an empty room, slip into it, then lock it with a simple turn of wrist. This party was by invite only, and the people who frequented this echelon of society were above worrying about petty theft from guests.

The second the door had closed behind them, Bucky had Steve pressed against the wood, lips on his neck and hands trailing to his sides and hips before settling on his ass and squeezing. “You’re fucking glowing,” Bucky growled against his skin, fingernails scraping against the fabric. 

“As long as I’m not sparkling like a fucking vampire,” Steve snarked, breath coming out in a short huff. “Jesus, Buck. Twice earlier wasn’t enough for you?” They’d woken up with lazy morning sex, all slow and quiet, before the sun had even risen. Bucky had made them late getting to the hotel, deciding that he couldn’t wait until later to have his mouth on Steve. Steve had happily returned the favor, making Bucky scream in his truck near the woods.

“Never enough,” Bucky breathed, capturing Steve’s mouth with his own. The kiss was sloppy, all lips and teeth and tongue, and he fed hungrily from the blond because he _couldn’t_ seem to get enough of the man. It had taken too much time to get into the costumes originally, so Bucky didn’t want to mess with them now. Instead, he redirected them toward the plush couches of the library, surrounding a fireplace that was cold and empty of flames.

Bucky pushed Steve into the chair, dropping to his knees in front of the blond. He looked up at Steve through his lashes, noting the pink on his cheeks and the slight part in his lips. Bucky ran his hand over the front of Steve’s pants, feeling his lover ready and hard beneath the fabric. “Fuck, I want you all the time, Steve. Every minute.”

Heat shot through Steve at the tone of Bucky’s voice. There was just the thinnest line of grey left around Bucky’s pupils, they were so blown and wide. His lips were red and damp, hair already mussed. _God_ , it made Steve feel weak at the knees and like he could run a marathon at the same time. The fireplace roared to life as his hands fisted into Bucky’s hair. Shit. Everything was so sensitive; he could feel the draft from the old windows, the nap of the velvet couches, could smell the old leather and paper of the books.

“I want you up here, want your skin on mine,” Steve growled. The wanting of this man was going to kill him. He’d die happily. 

“Your wish...” Bucky said then trailed off, rising so he was face to face with Steve. He placed his hands on either side of Steve’s head, leaning forward, showing Steve with his mouth how much he wanted him.

The fire made the room impossibly warm but Bucky didn’t care because his mouth was on Steve’s, fingers pulling at his hair, soft sighs and moans of want echoing in the large room. It took such a little thought, such a small push of power, before their skin was bare, warmth and velvet pressed together. “Tell me what you want,” Bucky demanded, voice husky and lust filled.

 _This_. He wanted _this_. Skin on skin, breathing the same air. Everything pinpoint focused on this man in front of him. Steve pulled Bucky down, turning them so he could bracket Bucky’s hips with his thighs. 

“Want to ride you until you come in me. Feel your hands and mouth all over. Mark me, wanna feel you when I walk,” Steve babbled against Bucky’s mouth in between sloppy bites and kisses. He nipped at Bucky’s collarbone, following the hollow of muscle and bone, leaving a bite on the fleshy bit. He grinned at Bucky’s grunt of pleasure. They wouldn’t need to worry about foreplay, Steve had already handled that. “What do you think took me so long to get ready earlier?”

Bucky’s head fell back against the chair at Steve’s words, his hands holding Steve’s hips hard, fingers digging into skin. He hissed when Steve’s hand wrapped around his cock, hot and hard as it moved up and down. Bucky’s hands pulled harder on Steve’s ass, spreading him wider, positioning him just right.

Lips brushed along Steve’s jawline as he sat higher, the slight stubble rubbing against Bucky’s lips with just the right amount of friction. His face would be red afterward, lips plump and swollen, but he’d wear it like a trophy. Everyone would see it and read _This one’s mine_. 

He locked eyes with Steve, the fire casting one side of Steve’s face in flames, the other in shadow. “Beautiful,” he breathed, hand reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek, thumb rubbing skin before his hand fisted in the hair at the back of his neck as he moved upward, slowly.

Steve sank down on Bucky, warm, and hard, and he felt so _full_ , the head pushing past that first ring of muscle, just brushing his prostate as Steve finally met Bucky’s hips. 

“You feel so damn good, Buck.” Bracing his hands on Bucky’s thighs, Steve leaned back and rolled his hips, fucking himself on Bucky’s cock. Lifting his hips up, he slammed down again, and again, and again, hitting his prostate each time, bits of light dancing in his vision. “So good, better than I could have ever imagined. _Fuck_.”

Bucky’s hips wanted to move up to meet Steve, but he let the blond do what he wanted, hands circling Steve’s waist, holding him close as he moved. His breathing had gone ragged, small sounds escaping every time he was fully surrounded by Steve, enveloped in the man’s warmth and body. Tongue darting out to wet his lips, Bucky stared in awe at the blond, seeing the play of emotions as they flowed over his face. 

The feeling was almost too much, skin and heat and _ohmygodrighttheredontstop_ , and Bucky began to thrust upward, their bodies filling the room with the sound of skin hitting skin. “Fuck, Steve, _yes_!”

“That’s it, lover, fuck me, make me come, _oh god_ , there, yes, please, _please_ , please, _fuck_ ,” Steve breathed, head thrown back as Bucky moved in him, hips trying to keep up. The room was hot, so hot, and sweat trickled down his back. The books had started to rattle in their shelves, and there was a crack of lightning outside.

Steve bit his lip to keep from screaming when Bucky’s hand finally wrapped around him, stroking fast and hard.

“Yes, James,” he hissed.

There was no slowing down now, not with the way Steve was moaning, not with the way he dropped himself onto Bucky, losing himself in the want and need. He wanted Steve to break like waves, crashing over and over, and it wasn’t going to be long before Bucky came himself.

“Fuck, yes, so tight, want to make you _scream_ ,” Bucky panted, hips and hands moving in a frenzy now, wanting to empty himself inside while Steve came, warm and hot between their bodies.

The fire spiked in the hearth, a long-charred piece of log popping with the heat. Bucky leaned forward, right hand stoking Steve, the other holding him close. His face rubbed against Steve’s shoulder, and Bucky’s tongue darted out, catching a bead of sweat as it began to roll down Steve’s chest, tasting salt, Power and _Steve_.

“Gonna come,” Bucky moaned in warning.

“I want you to come. Wanna - _fuck_ \- make you feel so good, Buck,” Steve grunted out, thrusting into Bucky’s fist, not far behind. He tugged on Bucky’s face up to his, looking him in the eye. “Come for me, come in me, Bucky, please.”

There was no way he’d be able to look into those blue eyes and deny this man anything he asked for. The look on Steve’s face, desperate and happy and full of love, had Bucky calling out his name, the sound bouncing on the walls and muffled only by the crack of thunder as the rain began to pelt the windows.

Hips jutting upward, Bucky rode his orgasm, hand urging Steve, wanting to see him fall apart. He kept his eyes open, wide and hungry and full, “feels so good, _fuck_ , need you to come, love.”

Steve’s mouth opened in a silent scream as he came around Bucky, feeling his lover pulsing inside, hand relentless on his cock, his fingers leaving bruises on his hip. He fell into Bucky’s eyes, black with lust and power. 

The books came flying off the shelves and the room smelled like ozone and sex.

“Looks like we’re headed to the same place, Collins,” Ward commented from the top stair landing at the Zeta house. He held the black leather mask in one hand, the other swirling keys around a finger.

“Mmm? What makes you say that, sweet cheeks?” Chase asked, an eyebrow lifting as he looked at the vice president.

 _Asshole,_ Ward thought, though he knew better than to say it aloud. “I can see the invitation you copied in your hand. It’s a nice job. Very believable.”

“Yes, well, if I’m going to crash a party, I should do it in style,” came the reply. “Don’t do anything stupid. Tonight is important.”

Bucky nudged Steve with his elbow as they made their way back down the steps. “No, this is actually your fault,” he said.

“Shut it, jerk,” Steve replied, pulling Bucky to him for a quick kiss, body still trilling after they way they’d come together upstairs.

“Well, and if it isn’t _about damn time_ you got into each other’s pants,” Sarah Rogers lilted from her spot by the stairs, shit-eating grin on her face.

Bucky pulled back from Steve like he was on fire, turning to Sarah with wide eyes and quickly pinkening cheeks. “We -”

“Ma -”

Sarah silenced them both with a wave of her hand in the air, a smirk on her lips that looked eerily similar to Steve’s. “Whatever was about to come out of your mouths is unnecessary. I’m happy for both of you.” She reached out and pressed a hand to each of their cheeks. “I was beginning to think you were both blind.”

“Blind and stupid,” Winifred corrected, heels clipping on the stone steps as she came to stand next to Sarah in front of the boys. 

“How do they always _do_ that?”

“Fucking creepy.”

“It _is_ fucking creepy,” Winifred said, smirking. “That’s why we do it. You should be attending to your guests. Especially the charming succubus in the black wings. We raised you better than that.”

“Yes, Ma.”

Blushing, Bucky and Steve made their way down the steps and the rest of the crowd, making a beeline for drinks and Darcy.

“Those boys don’t know what they’ve got with her, do they?” She saw Winifred shake her head, a small smirk on her lips.

“It’s takes them a while to see what’s in front of them. It’d be off-brand for them to do it any other way,” Winifred said with a smile. 

Sarah’s face sobered into concern, looking over at her best friend with apprehension. “I’m worried, Freddie. I’ve got a bad feeling. Not about _that_ , no,” she said with a gesture toward where the boys and Darcy were, “but with what’s coming. I’ve been dreaming again.”

Darcy smiled at Steve and Bucky as they approached. Their faces were a bit pink, and she could see their mothers looking at their backs from the steps leading upstairs. “Where _were_ you guys? You missed Sam challenging Natasha to a ballerina battle!”

She bubbled with laughter when their eyes snapped wider in unison. She bent, hair falling around her shoulders, body shaking with the laughter. She knew they’d only believe her for a second, but the looks on their faces had been worth it. Ignoring the slightly narrowed eyes they cast in her direction, she held out two glasses toward them. “Steve, I talked your mom into letting you drink as long as I was there to chaperone. So drink up, I’m already three ahead of you.”

“I don’t know how you managed that, but you are a literal saint, Darcy Lewis,” Steve pressed a kiss to her cheek before knocking back the glass of champagne. 

Once again, when Steve touched her skin, she felt a small sizzle of electricity. Had it always been that way with him? Had he always affected her like he did? _Yes. Obviously._ “She made me swear my unfaltering allegiance to her dark master but I figured it’s Halloween so that seems pretty much on point.”

She glanced over Bucky’s shoulder, toward the main entrance, her mouth dropping open in shock. “Oh. My. God.”

A very large, _very attractive_ Professor Odinson had just entered the party. Yes, he was an hour or two late, but it didn’t matter, not when he looked like he did. His hair was pulled back from his face, his costume some kind of hunter, body covered in leather, a heavy coat with metal buttons, and a real metal ax thrown over his shoulder. 

“ _Fuck me_ ,” she breathed, eyes searching the crowd for Jane. It took a few seconds, but she finally located her best friend, standing next to the dance floor with Wanda and Sam, laughing. Darcy watched the moment Jane noticed her date walk in the door and it was everything she’d hoped it would be.

She watched Jane’s face, watched the heat and lust spark into her eyes. Darcy squeaked softly, happily, as Jane excused herself from Sam and Wanda and began to weave through the crowd toward McHottie. Darcy stole the full glass of champagne from Bucky’s hand, downing it in one go before handing it back to him.

“I’m going to touch - I mean, I’m going to go say hot... I’m going to go say _hi_. I’ll be back in a sex - _sec_! I’ll be back in a sec.”

“So, that’s… wow. Is that actually legal in this state?” Steve asked Bucky as his eyes followed Darcy’s wings across the room. Professor Odinson filled out his button-up and slacks nicely. Dressed up in leather like pants? Steve sent out a thought of thanks to the Great Pumpkin. “And should we be worried about Darcy and Ma?”

“Oh, we most definitely should be worried about Ma and Darce,” Bucky answered, handing Steve another drink when he grabbed another for himself. “And as far as _that_ goes? Tuesday and Thursday mornings are going to be a lot more interesting.” His lips curled up into a smirk and he closed the distance between their bodies, reaching out to pinch Steve’s ass through his pants. “We should get you a pair of leather pants like that.”

“Mmmm, funny, I was just thinking the same thing.” Steve kissed the smirk, tasting champagne and _Bucky_. “Wanna head back to the room?”

“Hell yes. We’ve shown our faces for a reasonably acceptable amount of time,” Bucky answered, placing his empty glass on the table behind them. “I noticed earlier that the elevators at the hotel have mirrors on the walls and ceiling…”

The party was winding down. There were still people on the floor, masks and dresses shining as they spun, but there was a also steady stream of guests saying their goodbyes, pulling on their coats and heading out into the cold, foggy night.

Darcy had danced until her feet ached in her boots, at which point she pulled the boots off and went back to the floor. She loved dancing and had found no shortage of partners. She’d borrowed both Clint and Sam, taken several turns with Steve and Bucky, and then moved onto any person who was standing there and could be convinced to let her pull to the floor.

Everyone had been friendly and kind, and the time she’d spent with Steve and Bucky’s mothers had been nothing short of illuminating. She could see where Bucky got his charm and that smile of his, as well as where Steve had gotten his endless amount of kindness and intelligence. The women had been so nice, so warm and inviting, that Darcy had actually managed to earn herself an invite to their next Sunday dinner. _With or without the boys_ , Winifred had added with that same charismatic grin Darcy recognized on Bucky’s face.

She’d seen the rest of her friends leave in pairs. Sam and Wanda. Natasha and Clint. Steve and Bucky. There would be a car out front, ready to take her back to the hotel at any point, so she hadn’t minded staying behind so she could dance a little longer. Maybe she’d grab _Thor_ , as he’d insisted she call him outside of class, and have him twirl her around for a few songs.

Intercepted on her way to the punch - _delicious, delicious punch_ \- she squeaked when Jane’s arms wrapped around her from behind, face planting into the black feathers of Darcy’s costume. She turned in Jane’s arms, reaching up to remove the offending plumes from Jane’s mouth.

“You look excited,” Darcy said, noticing the glint in Jane’s eyes immediately. _This_ is what she’d been hoping she saw tonight; Jane happy and beaming with her date at her side. She could tell Jane was a bit tipsy, but that was fine; Darcy was feeling a bit floaty herself.

“We’re going back to the hotel room.”

Darcy waited for Jane to elaborate, but she didn’t. “Okay…” Her eyes widened when Jane stepped into her personal space, attempting to whisper but not doing that great of a job. “Oh! Janey are you -”

“We’re going to use the tub. The big tub.”

Laughing. Darcy put her hands on Jane’s shoulders to keep her friend upright when she swayed slightly. “With bubbles?”

“ _Lots_ of bubbles,” Jane nodded with a solemn look on her face. “But if we’re using the tub…”

Light dawned in Darcy’s eyes as she realized what Jane was saying. “ _Ahhh_! Right. No! You go use that tub. It’s amazing. I’m not sure if your very large man will fit in it with you, but you need to find out. For science.”

“ _For science_!” Jane yelled, throwing a hand in the air. Several eyes looked their way but all it did was make Darcy laugh harder. She loved drunk Jane Foster. Drunk Jane Foster was a blast. She laughed harder when a very sloppy, wet kiss was placed on her cheek, jumping when the kiss was joined by a firm slap to her ass.

She watched as Jane flew across the dancefloor, narrowly missing several people as she wove to where Professor McHottie was standing, waiting for her. Darcy watched them leave with a smile on her face. _Good. You go get you some, best friend._

Darcy walked back toward the punch, but paused when a man in all black stopped her before she’d left the floor. He held a hand out to her, cocking his head to the side in a questioning manner.

Eyes narrowing slightly, Darcy looked up at the man, one dark eyebrow raising in response. “You’re really taking the tall, dark and possibly handsome thing seriously, huh?”

He didn’t respond but just left his hand out, hovering in the air in front of her.

She glanced around the large room. There were still people milling about, the band still playing music. This was an invite only party. It wasn’t like she was accepting a _drink_ from a stranger. It was a dance. She’d danced with plenty of people tonight that she didn’t know.

It was just a dance.

She took the man’s hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor. Her feet were already black, her boots sitting at the side of the dance floor, blissfully forgotten, and she didn’t mind having another circuit or two.

“So, are we going to keep this silent thing going, or are you going to introduce yourself?” Darcy’d just accepted that there would be no words from the stranger when she heard his voice, muffled slightly by the mask.

“I saw you with those two… _boys_. Laughing, and dancing. Were you even thinking of me, Darcy?” It was true. Ward had spent the evening watching from the side, seeing her flirt and flutter and move her way like she didn’t have a care. His palms were nearly raw from his nails clenching into them. 

Confusion colored Darcy’s face until she placed the voice. Looking up at his black mask, she stopped moving on the floor, making several people knock into them as she stilled. “Grant?” She pulled her hands from his and took a step back. “What… what are you doing here?”

“I’m making sure you haven’t forgotten me. You’ve danced with practically every man in this place but me.” He pulled her back towards him, hand digging into her waist. “I’m making sure you’re where you’re _supposed_ to be. You weren’t with me, and now I’ve fixed it.”

Darcy’s mouth opened and closed several times as her cheeks flushed pink with anger. “I told you I was going to be here. I even _asked_ if you wanted me to get a plus one.” Thoughts ran in a frenzy in her head as she tried to understand everything he’d just said. “Grant, I am not ‘ _yours_ ’. I don’t _belong_ to anyone but **me**. **I** choose who I’ll be with and where I’ll go.” She tried to pull herself away from him, but his fingers were like iron vices on her hip and wrist. “Let me go, Grant, you’re hurting me.”

“Did you even _think_ of me tonight? Or were you too busy flirting with anyone who would give you a hint of attention? I can’t believe you, Darcy. Throwing yourself around, putting everything on display. I didn’t know you were such a slut,” his voice was low, pushing through gritted teeth. He leaned down when she continued to resist and pull away. “Don’t cause a scene,” he hissed, tightening his grip even more.

The shock and the pain he was causing her had taken a backseat to the absolute _anger_ at his words. She’d worry later about how he seemed like a completely different person, but at the moment, all she knew was that she didn’t want him to be touching her, and he wouldn’t let her go.

“ _Let go of me_!” She heard her shout echo off the high walls and ceiling of the ballroom. More than a few faces turned their way and she took advantage of Grant’s shock, pulling her wrist from his grasp, tearing the mask from his face with her left hand while her right landed on his uncovered cheek with a meaty _slap_.

Ward’s hand flew to his reddening cheek. Taking a thunderous step in her direction, his eyes narrowed, a promise of pain in their depths. “You conniving little cunt. You’re just doing this to make me jealous, to be a problem and get attention. I’ll -” 

“You’ll be leaving now, then, won’t you?” Winifred Barnes’ dark eyes flashed hard at Ward, cutting him off as she same to stand at Darcy’s side. Her husband was standing behind her, phone in hand. Sarah stood on the side of Darcy, a steady hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.

Ward considered pressing forward - _who did these people think they were talking to?_ \- but he knew when to step back. This wasn’t over, _not nearly_ , but he’d let this go for the time being. He straightened, squaring his shoulder, adjusting his suit. His cheek pulsing with heat where Darcy’d hit him. He’d return the slight and take it from her flesh soon enough.

“I’ll talk to you when you’ve cooled down, Darcy.”

“Lose my number, _you fuck_ ,” Darcy spat in his direction, holding her hurt wrist against her chest, feeling her blood pumping hot, certain that bruises would ring her skin. She watched the small sneer lift his upper lip as he turned and strode away. Bucky’s father nodded at security and they followed him at a distance.

When he was out of sight, Darcy’s shoulders slumped, the bravado she’d used on Grant draining and being replaced with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” she said, turning to both Sarah and Winifred with flaming cheeks and tears in her eyes. “I didn’t know he -”

“Oh, Darcy, honey,” Sarah said, reaching out to look at her wrist, “you have nothing to apologize for. What a bastard, thinking he could touch our girl like that. I hope his dick shrivels off and his hair falls out,” Sarah murmured, accent thick and rolling, moving Darcy’s wrist slowly in all directions, making sure he hadn’t caused any lasting damage. “It’s not sprained, but it’ll be mighty sore. Take some naproxen, and ice it, dearie, and let me know how you feel in the morning.”

“Your mouth to God’s ear, Sarah,” Winifred growled. She waved her hand at her husband, directing him to move people away from staring. “Idiots.” She looked back to Darcy, concern in her eyes. “What can we do for you, dear?”

Darcy looked between the two women, trying to show gratitude on her face but certain the small tremble of her lower lip didn’t communicate it well. “I think I just want to go back to the hotel,” she said, cradling her wrist against her chest. “James said there was a car outside?”

“We can take you back, love,” Winifred breathed, “I’m sure the boys -”

“Oh, no. _Please_. It’s fine. Jane’s already back in the room. I’ll be fine getting there myself. This was such a great evening and I had so much fun and you are both so amazing and I’m happy to finally meet both of you, your sons are amazing men and thank you so much.” Darcy could see that Winifred was going to try for a hug, and as much as she would have liked it, she wanted to get out of the party without bursting into tears. “Have a good night, thank you for the party.”

Sarah watched Darcy practically run from the room, hurriedly grabbing her discarded boots and holding them to her chest before she disappeared through the front foyer and toward the cars waiting outside.

“Call the -” Sarah stopped when she turned to see Winifred with her phone already dialing and pressed to her ear.

Darcy made it the short ride back to the hotel, through the lobby, and into the elevator before the first set of tears slid down her face.

She was so damn furious, and embarrassed, and confused.

And _shit_ , where the hell was she going to sleep? There was no way she was going to bother Jane, not when she’d looked so happy with Thor. The elevator dinged as it continued going up. She was already almost at her floor, deciding she would just go back down and get an Uber back to her dorm. 

She stared at herself in the mirrored doors of the elevator, boots clutched to her chest, face splotchy and tear streaked. She’d been having such a good evening and then… how could she have been so blind? That kind of darkness inside someone doesn’t just appear, it had to have been there the whole time, but Darcy hadn’t seen it at all. She’d been an idiot. She should have just listened to her gut. It’d been telling her something wasn’t right but she’d ignored it. All because she’d been lonely? She was pathetic.

She could see the bruises on her wrist, purple and green circles where his fingers had dug in. It ached, and she glared at herself in the mirror. No, it wasn’t her fault - she’d _never_ believe that - but remembering the look of… _cruelty_... in Grant’s eyes made her stomach bottom out and the tears flow faster. She hastily wiped at her eyes as she felt the elevator pause on her floor, a small ‘ _ding_ ’ sounding as the doors opened.

She looked up to see both Bucky and Steve standing in the hallway, waiting. Darcy froze, chest seizing. Their eyes were guarded, careful, but when they landed on her she watched the emotions play over their face. Concern, worry, then tenderness. The first sob tore its way from her throat as she dropped her boots, forgotten. Steve opened his arms and Darcy crashed into him, clutching at him, curling into his chest and hiding her face. She felt warm arms wrap around her as her knees gave out.

Winifred had given Bucky the short version, and Steve had watched the color drain from his lover’s cheeks. When Bucky’d gotten out of bed without a word and begun to pull his pajamas on, Steve had followed suit. He hadn’t needed to hear the conversation to know that something was wrong. As they’d waited in the hall for Darcy, Bucky had bitten out what he’d been told, words clipped and fists clenched at his sides.

They’d waited in the hallway for what seemed like forever before they’d heard the arrival of the elevator.

“Shh, shh. Come on then, dearheart,” Bucky said, reaching out to rub at Darcy’s back, gesturing at Steve to move them down the hall to their room. It was only a few rooms down the hallway, and they’d left it unlocked. 

Steve didn’t pause, just hefted Darcy into his arms and carried her after Bucky, following him toward their room. He glanced over his shoulder at the boots and they disappeared a second later, his eyes flashing black with flames. Maneuvering her wings through the doorway and past Bucky, Steve set her down on the king-sized bed, ducking his head to try and catch her gaze. Darcy hid her face with her hands and Steve glanced over at Bucky with worried eyes.

 _Yeah, I see them_ , Bucky’s voice growled in Steve’s head, the bruises around her wrist already turning a deep shade of purple.. 

_I hope his dick shrivels off and his hair falls out. After we kick the shit out of him._ Steve’s voice was harsh in his own head. Bitter. Angry.

“What happened, doll? Ma called and said Grant was at the party after we left. I won’t repeat what she said, but she went into the Irish, and that’s never good.” Steve kneeled down in front of her. “Did he hurt you?”

Darcy shifted on the bed when Bucky’s weight joined hers. He gently pulled her hands from her face, pulling her to his chest.

“My wrist. My hip.” The words were clipped, short, little hiccups making her shoulders jump. It was almost worse, looking into their concerned eyes. “That doesn’t matter,” she said.

“The _hell_ it doesn’t,” Bucky growled. He frowned when Steve shot him a look at the tone in his voice, not wanting to scare Darcy. He softened his voice and pressed his cheek against her hair. “What happened?”

“He said he’d been watching me dance, said I should have been with him at whatever party he was at. He... “ Darcy shook her head, reaching up to wipe at her eyes. She knew she looked like a drowned raccoon, but couldn’t seem to get the tears to stop.

Teeth grinding, Bucky’s jaw ticked with anger. _He put his hands on her_ , his voice rough and hard, like concrete in Steve’s head.

“He had no right to touch you like that,” Steve told her, thumb reaching up to clear a tear as it rolled down her cheek, ending up smearing her makeup even more.

“I know,” Darcy whispered. Her eyes cleared for a second as she looked down at Steve, jaw clenching, eyes lighting with defiance. “ _I know._ I hit him. Slapped him across the cheek.” He gave her a small smile, which fell a second later as she started crying harder, burying her head against Bucky’s chest.

 _I’m going to murder him_ , Steve thought at Bucky, anger coloring his eyes from their normal sky blue to a deep, fiery cobalt. A flash of lightning streaked across the window, and the wind picked up, rustling the trees and branches hitting the side of the building.

“I’m so pissed off. I’m furious. He was horrible. A spectacular, remarkable, magnificent _asshole_. Your mom was great, Jamie, and I thought your dad was going to light him on fire with his eyes,” Darcy sniffed, wiping her nose on her arm. “Ugh. I am so gross right now.”

“You’re not gross,” Bucky said, ignoring her tearful snort of disbelief. “You’re wearing golden armor and black feathers. You look like some sort of raven fury goddess.” He glanced over as Steve left the room without a word. For a second Bucky wondered if Steve was actually on his way to deal the justice that was rightfully deserved, but relaxed when the sound of running water came from the bathroom a few seconds later. 

Steve returned and knelt down in front of Darcy, holding a wet washrag in his hand. “Eyes up, love.”

Wiping at her nose again, Darcy turned her face toward Steve. “I can do that,” she said weakly, hating herself for how pathetic she sounded.

“I know you can, but just let me do it, okay?”

Darcy swallowed before nodding softly. Steve used the rag on her face, trying his best to clean it of her makeup and tears. She sniffled from time to time, but made no movement away. Her face was still red, color high on her cheeks and around her eyes, but there were no longer streaks of black.

“Do you want us to get Jane for you?”

“ _No_!” Darcy shook her head, and straightened at the thought. “No, please. She has the bathtub with the Norse God. I am in no way interfering with sexy times.” She pulled back, running her hands through her hair. She stopped, dropping her hands to her sides. “Fuck. Oh, _god_. I did already, with you two and the hotel sex. Fuck. Just give me a minute and I’ll get a cab and go back to the dorm. Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

“Do you really think we’re going to make you go away and be by yourself? I mean, if that’s what you _really_ want, I’ll call the car around to take you back,” Bucky said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “One of us will go with you to make sure you get back all right. But you are more than welcome to stay here with us. There’s plenty of room.”

“Ma would kill us both then bring us back to do it again if we just let you go home,” Steve said, only partially joking. “We’ll both do whatever you want or need us to do, but we’d feel better if you weren’t alone tonight.”

The sincerity in their voices made Darcy’s lower lip tremble a little, but she managed to keep more tears from falling as she nodded. “I need to clean my feet,” she said, wiggling the toes, which were almost black with dirt from all the barefoot dancing she’d done.

Bucky smiled softly, standing up and holding his hand out for her. “That we can do.” He pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her, resting his cheek to the crown of her head. She sighed against his chest, and he looked at Steve, a mix of worry and anger in the storm grey of his eyes. 

“And maybe food?” Steve asked, standing. “I’m sure that room service could whip us up something.”

The thought of food made Darcy’s stomach flip a bit, and she looked over at Steve. “No food,” she shook her head, hating how this night had turned so completely in a matter of moments, “but pajamas?”

“We can do that, too,” Steve said, crossing to their open suitcase, grabbing a pair of knit pants and a t-shirt, holding them out to Darcy. “Here, you take a shower and then we’ll try to get some sleep, yeah?”

She nodded, taking the offered clothing and slipping into the bathroom, door clicking closed quietly. They heard the water start, and both let out the long breath they’d been holding.

“C’mere, Steve, I need a hug.” Bucky sighed when Steve wrapped his arms around his shoulders, leaning his head into the crook of Steve’s neck and just breathing.

“This is bullshit.” The rain was hitting against the window heavily now, flashes of lightning breaking through the curtains at regular intervals. The fury of the storm outside paled in comparison to the one brewing in Steve’s head.

“He had to have snuck in,” Bucky growled, shaking his head as he pulled back to look at Steve, his face set into angry lines. With Darcy in the shower, he didn’t have to lower his voice or clear it of the heavy weight of outrage. “There’s no way he got an invite. Which means he forged one. Why go to all that trouble?”

Steve just shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t like it either. What’d Ma say?”

“Said he was dressed in all black. They were dancing. They stopped dancing, Darce screamed, hit him, and he took a step toward her, saying nasty things. They escorted him out.” His mother hadn’t heard exactly how the fight started, but she’d told him enough of what she _did_ hear. “The bastard said they’d discuss it later. But he put his hands on her, Steve. Those bruises -”

“I know,” Steve said, reaching out to put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. It had only been a few months, but Darcy felt like family. It’s how they always functioned. First it’d been him and Bucky. When Clint and Sam had shown up, it was like they’d known each other their whole lives, almost _instantly_ bonding, the four of them closer than Steve had thought possible. And now, he felt they’d done the same thing with Darcy. Family. And that someone had put their hands on his family? He was outraged.

Steve sighed, breathing through his anger, resting his forehead against his lover’s. “Tonight, we make sure Darcy is alright. Tomorrow, we deal with… other things. And we make sure the fucker never touches her again.”

Darcy’s mouth felt like cotton and her eyes were sandy raw, but she was _so so_ warm and didn’t want to move just yet. She snuggled down deeper into her pillow, closing her eyes and taking a deep, deep breath. The arm wrapped around her stomach tugged her a little closer, and the hand in her hair relaxed.

“ _Shit_ ,” Darcy whispered into her pillow, realizing that it was Bucky’s chest she was pressed against, and that the hand in her hair and the body behind her belonged to Steve. This was definitely not how she’d dreamed waking up pressed between them would be. She opened one eye to see Bucky’s very close and very asleep face inches from hers. His lips were parted slightly, breath fanning her face in even, steady intervals. She could feel Steve at her back, the length of his body pressed against hers, all six of their feet weaved around each other's at the foot of the bed.

When they’d fallen asleep the night before - _this morning?_ \- she could have sworn she was on the far end of the king bed, arms wrapped around a pillow, trying to give Steve and Bucky some semblance of privacy. How she’d managed to find herself in the middle of the two sleeping boys was a mystery. She took just another second to appreciate the warmth of their body heat, the weight of their limbs over her, before she tried to wiggle out of their arms.

She’d started to make headway shimmying down toward the foot of the bed, but realized as she moved downward that the shirt she’d borrowed was staying put, baring her stomach as she moved south. Darcy sucked in a breath of air as Bucky’s arm hit the exposed skin of her belly. She tried to move back up but that just made the shirt come back down, covering her stomach _and_ his arm in fabric. Steve was laying on his side behind her, hand tangled in her hair, which meant no means of escape there, either.

Darcy was well and truly stuck between the boys. Warm, sleeping, soft boys who smelled quite nice. She laid there between them, no longer trying to get away but just… _staying_ , appreciating the moment for what it was. Her friends had literally circled around her, making sure she was okay after everything that had happened the night prior with Grant.

Her mind replayed what had happened last night; the look in Grant’s eyes as he’d spoke; how he’d stalked toward her after she’d slapped him; the promise of pain in his gaze. Just thinking of his hands gripping her filled her with ice and she lifted her wrist to the light. There was a nice ring of purple circles where his fingers had dug in and held tight, her bones grinding. After her shower, she’d looked in the mirror, seeing a near perfect handprint on her hip, a mark from his thumb on the front and a large blotch on the back as he’d gripped her and pulled here against him with force.

Darcy calmed her breathing, trying to blank her mind of the ugliness from the previous night. She sighed softly, settling back against the pillow, blinking as she watched Bucky sleep, feeling the steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest pressed against her back. When she was up and moving, more awake and alert, Darcy knew her emotions would get the better of her. More tears, more anger. More questioning herself on how she hadn’t seen it coming. But she wasn’t up and moving, nor more awake or alert. She was warm. And safe. And grateful to have friends as amazing as the two men with her now. 

“Stop wigglin’. Not awake yet. Don't wanna be awake yet. Warm,” Steve rumbled from behind her. She felt it more than heard it, a deep vibration against her back. His face nuzzled Into her hair. “Stop thinking so hard.”

“Sorry,” she whispered, trying to stay still. Easier said than done, feeling his breath against her neck and feeling both Steve and Bucky’s heat pressed against her from both sides. This wasn’t unlike several dream she’d had, and if focusing on the boys let her ignore everything for a few more minutes, then she was willing.

“He hates mornings,” Bucky mumbled, not opening his eyes yet. It was still pretty early and they’d only gotten a few hours of sleep. This was going to be a long day and he wanted to milk a few more moments of calm and peace. 

Finally opening his eyes, he blinked at Darcy. Her face was lit by a stray ray of sunlight from between the curtains. He could see the mess of Steve’s hair mingled with her dark, face hidden in the jungle of her curls. Her eyes had more bloodshot in them than he normally saw, but remembering what had happened last night… His jaw clenched slightly, but he managed a small smile in her direction. “Morning.”

“Sorry. I was just - “ Darcy started. She caught Bucky’s eyes, soft with sleep. He was actually rumpled, not his usual _I take too much time to look like I didn’t try_. She took a deep breath. “How did I end up in the middle?”

“Needed snuggles. Asshole,” Steve groused from her hair. He shifted, warm hand sprawling across her stomach to pull her closer.

Darcy made a little _meep_ sound when Steve buried himself further into her back, uncertain how but managing to press more of his body against hers.

“We don’t have to get up yet,” Bucky said, reaching out to push a lock of hair behind her ear. She looked tired, and pale, but still beautiful. “How are you feeling?”

“Can we not?” Darcy looked at him, hazel eyes faltering slightly. She watched the confusion play on his face, not meaning the cut in her words to be directed at him. “It sucks. I’m angry, and hurt, and want to cry, but I’m not. Not yet. It’ll be horrible out there. Just give me a little time here, not thinking about it. Is that okay?”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then nodded. He settled back into his pillow, pulling the covers up with him, settling them around Darcy and Steve. His hand spanned over Steve’s arm. “The alarm will go off in a bit, and then brunch. Just think of breakfast meats.” 

Darcy closed her eyes, allowing herself to be still, surrounded by them. “Breakfast meats aren’t usually the first thing on my mind, but I’ll do my best.”

“He did _what_?” Clint said, his voice echoing in the hallway.

“Keep your voice down,” Sam hissed, putting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. Clint shrugged out of his grip, pacing further down the hall, body full of tension and hard lines. “She’s right on the other side of that door.”

Steve watched the anger spark in Clint’s eyes as he turned and stalked back toward them. They all knew - _intimately_ \- the home situation Clint had grown up in. It was unsurprising that the righteous ire had risen so quickly in the other man, considering this wasn’t the first time Clint had experienced violence toward someone he cared about.

Clint ran a hand through his hair, his voice still rough like sandpaper grit. “So what are we going to do about it? Let it go?”

“No,” Bucky said, pushing off the wall where he’d been slouching, happily silent as Steve repeated what had happened last night. “We don’t do _nothing_.”

“And what do you suggest we do?” Sam asked, arms crossed over his chest, face busy working on the problem. He was the most rational of the group, and the oldest, and the one least likely to lead with hysterics. “We can’t hurt him. We can’t touch him. We don’t need that on our conscience.”

“So we do nothing?” Clint hissed again.

Sam leveled a glare at his best friend. Clint had always been quick to anger when it involved family, and it was clear Clint had already accepted Darcy as such. “I’m not saying we do nothing. I’m saying we can’t _hurt_ him. But we can,” he paused when Clint opened his mouth to speak, “ _make sure_ he doesn’t hurt her again. We’re with her. All of us, or one of us, at all times. We make sure she gets to class safe and gets home safe and that the bastard never touches or speaks to her again.” 

“She’s not going to like that,” Steve said about Sam’s plan. Darcy was already trying to say she was fine, putting on a brave face for them. But he’d come to know her pretty well after all the time they’d spent together, and he knew having what amounted to guards watching her every move would not go over well. 

“Tough shit,” Bucky snapped, voice hard. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand out on end even more wildly. “Sorry. I know she’s going to hate it, but _if_ we aren’t going to do anything, we’ll hate it more if dickless tries to do something. I wish Pop had called the cops.”

“So they could do what?” Sam asked, turning to Bucky with resolve on his face. “At worst it was assault. He’d be looking at a few weeks in jail, if that. Probation, maybe. He’s the vice president of his frat, a frat full of sons who have high-profile lawyers and prosecutors for fathers.”

Clint shook his head, teeth grinding, still pacing. “That’s not good enough. He put _bruises_ on her, Sam. And that just slides?”

“Who put bruises on who?” Jane asked in a whisper, an empty bucket of ice under arm, as she approached. All four boys turned to look at her at once, and she didn’t like the look on their faces. “What happened?”

Steve sighed. Darcy had wanted to tell Jane herself, but it seemed not even that could go right. 

“There was an incident last night at the party after we’d left,” Sam said when no one started talking. “Grant Ward showed up uninvited. He and Darcy... exchanged words.”

“Is that what they call it? Maybe next you’ll say she walked into a door?”

“ _Clint_.”

The hallway went silent for a beat, Jane looking between all four of them as some sort of tension filled the air. “Someone tell me what the fuck happened.”

“Ward grabbed her and put bruises on her. It was broken up before more could happen, but she’s pretty shaken up about it.” Steve tried to choose his words carefully. He wasn’t sure how to tell what had happened without raising his voice.

Jane flinched, swallowing reflexively. “Where is she?”

“She stayed with us last night. She’s safe.”

“ _Where. The. Fuck. Is. She?_ ”

Steve nodded toward their room, pulling his key card from his pocket. Jane took it from him as she stalked forward, shoving the ice bucket into Sam’s arms.

The light on the handle flicked green and Jane pushed her way into the room. All four men stood there in the hallway, faces pulled in angry and frustrated lines, not wanting to interrupt the girls’ conversation. 

Jane saw the messy bed with clothes strewn around and heard running water coming out of the bathroom.

“Darcy?” Jane called. “Are you in here?”

“Jane? What’re you -” Darcy was standing in the bathroom, wearing the white hotel robe, holding her shoes and dress in one hand. “I was getting ready to head back to the room to grab my stuff and shower.”

“Are you okay? What the hell happened last night? Why didn’t you call me?” Jane spewed, eyes wide with concern as she looked over Darcy. She could see the hints of bruises on her wrist where the robe was pushed up on her arms. “He did that?”

Darcy closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She knew Jane Foster, the closest thing to a sister she’d ever had, and she knew what came next. She pulled the sleeve of the robe further and bared her wrist, mottled with a ring of purple and green. “Yeah.”

Jane closed the distance, inspecting the bruise. “Is that all?”

She could already hear the emotion in Jane’s voice. “My hip, but I’d rather not get naked in front of you, so could you just take my word on it?”

Eyes flicked up to Darcy’s face, the movement pushing the first tear out onto Jane’s cheeks. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

“Jane, this is not your fault. For all we know he would have done it regardless of who was there.”

“I’m sorry. I should have been watching -”

“Jane.”

“We’d all been drinking and I was so caught up with -”

“ _Jane_.”

“I let my own feelings get in the wa -”

“ _ **Jane!**_ ” The older woman stopped at Darcy’s sharp word and the hands on her shoulders, which she shook softly. “This is not your fault. It’s not my fault. This is his fault and no one else’s. I didn’t…” She trailed off, leaning against the bathroom sink. “I didn’t see it. No one saw it. The way he looked at me, the way he talked to me… This was him. And it sucks and I’m angry but it is no one’s fault but _his_.”

Jane looked long and hard at Darcy, seeing the dark circles starting to bloom under her eyes. But Darcy didn’t look sheepish or broken, she just looked tired and angry. “Okay. I’m sorry. I love you, Darcy Anne. Let’s get you showered and ready for coffee,” Jane said. 

After what seemed like forever, Bucky pulled the keycard from his pocket and pushed the door open softly. The girls were in the bathroom, and he nodded back to the hallway before entering. The rest of the men followed him, taking up stations around the room. They all looked up when the bathroom door opened and Jane stuck her head out.

“We’ll meet you for breakfast in a bit.”

Steve nodded, putting a friendly hand on Clint’s shoulder and leading him out the door. Sam ducked into the bathroom, pressing a quick kiss to Darcy’s cheek before following Steve and Clint. 

Bucky smiled softly at Darcy. “We’ll be downstairs. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” Darcy said, giving him a small smile. She watched him leave, a deep breath lifting her shoulders and putting them back down again. She was tired, weary, and she needed a distraction. Brunch with everyone would help. Waiting until she heard the click of the door closing behind the boys, she turned to Jane. “So we talked about my night. How did yours go? How was the tub with McHottie?”

Jane stared at Darcy for a second, unsure how to respond. Or if she should. She finally decided that if Darcy wanted to change the subject then the subject would be changed. She shook her head, reaching out to gather the rest of Darcy’s things. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, you love it,” Darcy said, grateful that her friend hadn’t pushed, happy to put off her inevitable emotions just a while longer. “Let’s get me dressed.”

All four boys stood when Darcy and Jane made their way into the lobby. Darcy’s hair was damp and hung around her shoulders, and while she’d changed into a pair of her jeans, she was still wearing the t-shirt Bucky had let her borrow the previous night. He was more than happy to let her keep it, if it made her feel any better.

“I believe I was promised breakfast meats,” Darcy said, giving them all a smile. The shine in her eyes that had become so familiar was still there, it’d just been dimmed a bit.

“We did promise that, didn’t we?” Steve grinned, reaching out for her hand, pulling so she was seated to his right, Bucky at his left. 

“The other girls?” she asked, letting Steve push her seat in for her. 

“Right there,” Clint said, walking around the table so he could press a kiss to Natasha’s cheek, Sam doing the same for Wanda.

“I’ve heard very good things about the pastries they make here.”

“Everything on the menu here is good,” Steve added as he sipped his coffee.

“Steve, from how I’ve seen you eat, I don’t know if I necessarily trust that judgement,” Wanda said from where her head was leaning on Sam’s shoulder.

“Right? Whatever you’re using, protein powder, supplements, ancient black magic, whatever it is, it’s working,” Darcy said, looking over at him with a smile. When Clint choked on the sip of water he’d been taking, she laughed. “You okay there, Clint?”

They all laughed when Natasha gave him one good _whack_ on his back, his eyes widening then turning to look at her. “Not in public, my love. Leave the beating for the bedroom.”

A chorus of groans sounded at the table, followed almost immediately by laugher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music Cue #1 - Fever by Alison Sudol
> 
> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com)


	15. Home Has A Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky put Steve’s supernatural energy to vigorous good use.

“So, uh, I did a thing,” Steve said to Bucky as they made their way back up to their room after brunch. The rest of the group had taken cars back to campus, leaving the two men on their own. He laced his fingers with Bucky’s and pulled him down the hallway.

“What? That thing with your -” Bucky started to reply. Steve interrupted him with a kiss. It was short, and it accomplished what Steve wanted. He could still feel his ears turning pink, just thinking about it, even though _he_ was the one who had done _that_ to Bucky.

“No, not that, well. Yes, but no. I extended our stay here, for another night,” Steve told him, blue eyes lighting with deviousness and satisfaction. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, letting Steve lead them. “Oh?”

“Well, we didn’t get to enjoy the room as much as we wanted last night.” Steve’s eye widened and he looked toward Bucky with a worried expression. “Not that I’m… I don’t mean…”

Bucky leaned in and kissed Steve’s cheek, watching relief flow into the other man’s face. He didn’t need to say that he was upset they hadn’t used the room because of what had happened with Darcy. Bucky knew exactly what he’d meant. Neither of them would alter how they’d responded and been there for Darcy. In fact, the only thing Bucky would change would have been erasing that violent bastard from all of creation.

Glad that Bucky understood what he’d meant, Steve’s gaze went back down the hallway, following the classy carpet pattern with his eyes. “Anyway. We have the room until tomorrow.”

“And that includes the giant shower, tub and the windows overlooking the woods?” Bucky asked, casting a heated look in Steve’s direction.

“Yes. All of that.”

Eyes darkening at the possibilities, Bucky reached into Steve’s back pocket, pulling the keycard from the snug denim. He turned, putting his back against the door, blocking Steve’s way. “Where did you want to start?” 

“Isn’t there a song about starting at the beginning?” Steve quipped, eyes flashing black when the door slipped open and he moved Bucky into the room. The door closed, and their clothes were off before they’d even made it into the main room of the suite. 

“You’re so goddamned distracting, you know that? _God_ , I can’t keep my hands off of you,” Steve growled, hands roaming up Bucky’s arms to his shoulders, pulling the other man close so he could press skin to skin. Steve slanted his mouth over Bucky’s, licking the seam of his lips and into his mouth when Bucky moaned.

“There are people going down for brunch, coming in after church, Sunday dinner, an afternoon walk,” Steve said against Bucky’s neck, leaving bite marks along the line of his shoulder. “They could hear you being fucked, see you all laid out against that window, if they just looked up. See you make a mess as you come screaming my name.”

The force in Steve’s words, the smallest hint of Power, had Bucky panting, his body already responding. He could almost _feel_ Steve already, working into him, skin slick, the cool glass beneath his hands. He bit Steve’s lower lip, pulling on it softly before he let it go. “Is that how you want me?”

Steve didn’t answer, no words necessary as he pushed Bucky backward until he hit curtains. Steve’s mouth crashed against his, all lips and tongue and biting, and the strength in the blond’s hands where they tangled in his hair made Bucky’s cock swell and fill. 

“That’s just the _first_ way that I want you,” Steve breathed, hands roaming wherever they could. Over Bucky’s shoulders, to his back, grabbing his ass and digging his fingers into the flesh there. “And then over and over and over again. Want you screaming my name, want you in me. I just want you.”

Drunk-with-Power Steve Rogers was a whole new level of sexy and Bucky’s heart raced quicker as he saw the determination in Steve’s eyes. “Then take me,” he said, hand snaking to the back of Steve’s neck, pulling the blond’s mouth down to his own. Steve’s hands were everywhere, hot and firm, and Bucky melted into him, letting him do what he wanted. Obedient. Pliant. He breathed inward sharply when Steve’s fingers dug into his hips before flipping him. Bucky pressed his hands to the curtains, only to have Steve rip them open. The light made Bucky close his eyes, waiting until they could adjust.

“See them down there,” Steve breathed against his ear, pressing the long line of his body against Bucky’s, “they could look up any second.”

The shiver that rolled down Bucky’s spine had nothing to do with temperature.

“They could see you taking my cock, wanting to touch you, but they can’t, ‘cause you’re mine,” Steve rolled his body against Bucky’s, cock rubbing in the crease of his ass, teasing. He bit down in the crease of Buck’s shoulder, leaving a bruise behind in the perfect shape of his teeth. “Want you to feel me later.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky hissed, feeling the heavy weight of Steve behind him, pressing against his ass, rubbing but not putting any pressure. It was a promise of what was to come and it made Bucky’s mouth part in a sigh. Steve’s arm wrapped around him, holding him close as he pumped his hips _just enough_ that Bucky could feel him hot, hard, and ready. “Need to -”

He heard a noise, looking over his shoulder as Steve drew a finger into his mouth, wetting it and swirling his tongue around the top. Bucky shuddered again at the erotic visual, his eyes rolling back, writhing with barely contained ust. He let out a moan as he felt the press of Steve’s finger, brushing over him, testing, teasing. “Fuck, yes Steve, _yes_!”

Steve moved to his knees behind Bucky, nipping at the back of his knees and thighs, taking his time when he heard Bucky gasp or felt him shudder. How many times had they done this? How many times had Steve worked to take Bucky apart in the short time they had been together, and yet, he was still drunk on the taste and smell of Bucky’s skin. Steve used his knees to nudge Bucky’s feet apart, causing him to press his hands into the cool glass for balance. Slowly, carefully, Steve used the tip of his tongue to lick from Bucky’s balls up his ass, and slowly back down. He did it again, hearing Bucky’s sharp intake of breath as his tongue circled around Bucky’s hole, wetting him, working him with his tongue to loosen Bucky for his fingers.

Every sensation drew a different sound from him, and the feeling of Steve’s mouth and fingers on him as he watched the oblivious people below stole the air from his lungs. When Steve’s mouth started its same journey over again, he couldn’t help the small noise of want that fell out. “ _Steve_ ,” he breathed, wanting to grab onto something, _anything_ , but only finding the cool glass beneath his palms. “Want you in me. Need you.”

“What was that, love?” Steve pulled back long enough to flick his hand out for slick, coating his fingers and working one into Bucky, cock jerking at every gasp and noise from above him. “Is this what you wanted?” Steve asked as he stood, slipping a second finger in with the first, scissoring his fingers to stretch Bucky. He pressed his body against Bucky’s, rocking into him, rubbing his aching dick near where they both wanted him to be. 

Bucky bit his lip, the feeling of Steve’s finger stretching him, prepping him, making him want to cry out. He wanted Steve to pound into him, wanted to feel that delicious ache the entire day. “Steve,” he said, pushing backward, wanting to feel more of him, everywhere.

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that,” Steve said, working in a third finger, “love hearing my name on your lips.” He couldn’t take it any longer, not with the way Bucky was shifting back, rocking into his hand. He straightened, hands gripping Bucky’s hips, fingers digging into the flesh. “Tell me you want this.”

“Fuck, _yes_. Want you. Want to feel you inside of, filling me. Yes, Steve, _yes_ , I want you.”

Steve shifted, coating himself with slick before spreading Bucky’s cheeks and just looking his fill. Bucky had the best ass, high and defined, curving out to fill Steve’s hands perfectly. He pressed in, taking his time, savoring every inch.. “You’re so tight, so hot, just taking me in, Bucky, _fuck_. Look at you,” Steve babbled as he slid the rest of the way into Bucky’s ass.

“They could look up, could see you spread out for me.” He punctuated each word with a snap of his hips, an arm wrapping around Bucky’s front to fist his cock, pumping in time with each thrust. Steve caught the edge of Bucky’s ear with his teeth. 

He was so full, Steve’s breath on his skin, the taste of Steve on his lips, every sense dominated by Steve so he felt surrounded and drowning _so much_. They moved together, drawing themselves closer then slowing, in no rush, just enjoying the feeling of the other. Sweat had begun to bead at Bucky’s temple when he cried out, hands slapping against the glass. The sound of skin striking skin, mixed with their reflexive grunts and sighs, had him circling higher and _fuck_ he was getting close. Steve shifted his hips, hitting a different depth, and it stole the air from Bucky’s lungs. “Close,” he gasped, “so close!”

Steve redoubled his efforts, spurred on by hearing his name falling from Bucky’s mouth. He pounded himself into Bucky, trying to hit the spot that made him shout with pleasure each time. Fisting his hand into Bucky’s hair, Steve growled, “Come for me, Buck. Right now.”

The demand from Steve sent Bucky over the edge, coming as Steve’s teeth sunk into the meat of his shoulder, marking him. He could feel Steve’s fingernails drag down his back. Knowing Bucky had come, Steve’s grip on his hips tightened as he crashed their bodies together over and over. Each thrust forced another moan from Bucky until it was little more than a babble of nonsense. Just when Bucky thought he couldn’t take anymore, when there was _too much_ and he was dizzy with it all, he heard Steve shout, his hips still, small shallow thrusts as he came.

The movement was less hurried, less frenzied, but every touch still sparked along Bucky’s skin. He let his head hang, breathing heavy, feeling spent and sated and so full. He didn’t trust his voice, not yet, and could only grunt his pleasure as Steve shifted. He knew he’d ache later, but it wouldn’t be _pain_ , not really, just the reminder of being taken, completely and utterly taken.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky. He licked and kissed the spot between Bucky’s shoulders, breathing hard. For the moment, his whole body was quiet, focused on feeling pleasure and relaxation. He could still feel little licks of Power under his skin, but it seemed sated, almost lazy.

“That was amazing,” he mumbled into Bucky’s back. “I can’t believe you. So perfect.”

Bucky nodded, glad that Steve was holding him upright. He wasn’t sure if he’d been able to do it on his own. A sad noise slipped past his lips as Steve pulled out and put space between their bodies, the loss of body heat stark against Bucky’s skin. They both collapsed on the bed, tired and languid and _still_. Bucky might have fallen asleep for a few minutes against Steve’s chest, his ear pressed and listening to the steady _thumpthumpthump_ of his heart. His eyes opened when a large growl emanated from Steve’s stomach.

His lashes brushed against his cheeks as he looked up, giving Steve a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t you eat _two_ omelets this morning?”

“Like you were any better right before your birthday. I seem to remember a tray of tacos from the taqueria and you kept going on about chimichangas,” Steve replied, a challenging grin turning his lips. “Room service is a thing, you know.”

“Ooh, doesn’t this place do those killer pulled pork nachos?”

“You’re going to drop cheese and crumbs in the water,” Steve said, trying to follow the chip with his mouth.

“Just hold still with your mouth open and I’ll put it in,” Bucky replied. He was trying to get the last chip from the double plate of nachos into Steve’s mouth, and the blond was making it harder than it needed to be..

“I’ve heard that about you.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed even as a small grin climbed onto his lips. “You’re a dick.” He finally managed to get the food in Steve’s mouth, brushing his hands over the side of the tub. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

“Yes. I am.” Steve chewed, smiling brightly at Bucky. He felt infinitely better with food in his stomach. It wasn’t a hardship sharing the tub with his love either, surrounded by hot water and a heaping mound of bubbles. Darcy had been right. The bathtub was _amazing_.

“The girls already went back to the dorms. Sam and Clint will be meeting us for dinner, then we’ll head out of town.” 

They’d made the day as clear as possible on purpose. They weren’t sure how Steve would ramp up in the coming hours; Sam had thrown up for the last twelve hours before he ascended; Clint’s hearing had gone crazy, allowing him to hear the blood as it rushed through his veins and passed through each ventricle in his heart; Bucky had seen lights and colors that weren’t there. They were prepared, just in case Steve experienced similar effects.

“Anything else you want to do today? Before?”

Steve snuggled further back against Bucky, letting the warm water come up over his chest. His skin felt like it was thrumming, like little licks of fire dancing all over, an impossible itching underneath. Being near Bucky, being _touched_ by him, seemed to help quell the nervous energy to a dull roar. “I can think of a few things.” He turned his head to press a kiss to Bucky’s chin. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, that you’re all here. I’d be going out of my mind otherwise.”

“Couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.” Bucky said, wrapping his arms around Steve, the water sloshing the smallest bit. The only sounds in the bathroom were the sounds of water moving and the soft static of bubbles popping around them. It was the first bit of real peace they’d had in the last twenty-four hours. 

Well, no. When they’d woken up after everything from the night before, Darcy pressed between them, safe and still. Quiet and warm and snuggling. That had been peaceful, too. 

“Are you worried about tonight?”

Steve shrugged. Of _course_ he was. He wasn’t as big or as strong, physically, as the others. His dad had died, hadn’t been able to save himself, even with the Power. What if everything didn’t go all right? What if…

Steve yelped when he felt Bucky’s teeth nip into his shoulder.

“Stop that. I can feel you thinking darker thoughts, love.” Bucky admonished, feeling a bit of the tension drain from the man in his arms. 

“‘Course I’m worried. I’d be insane not to be,” Steve finally said. “It’s a lot of Power, all at once. And I’ve always been… well.. Me. All of this - “ he indicated his body with a sweep of his hand, “ - hasn’t treated me the best.” There’d been the pneumonia, the asthma, anemia, the terrible vision. Steve’s entire childhood had been one illness flowing into the next.

Bucky rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “All of this, all of _you_ , is exactly as it’s supposed to be. No moping. It’s almost your birthday. Only happy birthdays things allowed.” His hands started moving down Steve’s arms, making long, slow trails up and down with his fingers. He breathed in the smell of Steve’s skin, wet and warm and soapy. 

“Buck -”

“Shhh. Just relax. Let me love on you some,” Bucky whispered his command, running his nose around the rim of Steve’s ear. His hands continued their slow, steady movements, up and down Steve’s arms, down his chest, making slow circles across Steve’s thighs. He sighed as Steve leaned back into him, letting some of the tension go “That’s it.”

Steve’s eyes had fallen closed, focusing on the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest against his back. His head lolled back onto Bucky’s shoulder, turning so his lips pressed against the skin of Bucky’s jaw.

“You are the strongest person I’ve never known,” Bucky whispered, fingers brushing over slick skin beneath the mountain of bubbles, up and down, soothing and relaxing, attempting to drain the anxiety from Steve’s body. “The best man, my best friend. Everything is going to be fine.”

They stayed like that, quiet and calm, bodies sliding against each other in the water. When Steve turned, causing small waves to lap against the sides of the tub, his lips pressed against Bucky’s softly, slowly, no rush in the action. If Steve didn’t have _this_ , being here with Bucky, he didn’t know what he’d do. How had he been able to keep himself from doing this, _being_ this, with Bucky? He’d never understand why it’d taken him so long.

“I love you,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips, wrapping arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Bucky smiled against Steve, pressing closer, running his hands over the long line of Steve’s back, down to the curve of his thighs, squeezing gently. “Love you,” he replied, trying to put how he felt in the way he slanted his mouth over Steve’s, the way he pressed Steve to him with a hand on his lower back, the other sweeping up his chest to cup Steve’s face. He loved this man to the ends of the earth, would do anything for him, and Bucky knew that Steve would come out the other side of this better than any of them had. 

Slow, warm arousal made its way through Steve where Bucky touched him. He shuddered at the feel of stubble on his chin and the lightest hint of nails at his back. His skin ached and craved the contact. Steve stroked down Bucky’s chest to his sides, just lightly resting as he felt Bucky’s ribs expand and contrast with each breath.

What had started slow and languid was building in Bucky’s chest, heat and desire climbing up his throat and spilling into Steve. He held Steve tighter, lips trailing down Steve’s jaw and into the curve of his neck and shoulder. Tongue darting out, he licked the water that slid over Steve’s skin, tasting the bubbles and what was just _Steve_.

He could feel Steve pressed against him, somehow warmer than the water surrounding them. Bucky’s fingers dug into Steve’s back as he deepened the kiss, trying to make Steve know how much this meant, how much _he_ meant, to Bucky. It wasn’t frantic, or panicked, but strong and imploring. _This_ , he meant, _this_ is what you mean to me.

Steve sighed against Bucky’s lips then began to slowly, _slowly_ , rock his hips against Bucky. They were both hard and slick from the water and soap and Bucky just felt _so good_ against him. Steve couldn’t help the soft noises coming out of his mouth as he pulled back from kissing Bucky, catching his gaze and hoping everything he felt - _lovehopetrusthome_ \- was in his eyes. 

He gasped when Bucky’s hands wrapped around both of their cocks. His hands moved incrementally slowly, barely putting any pressure on Steve, and it was perfect. He could just feel the warmth from Bucky’s skin and the water moving around them. He whimpered as Bucky’s hands closed around them, not moving any faster, moving firmer and squeezing around the tip of his cock before moving down again.

Steve was caught in Bucky’s eyes, impossibly long lashes framing eyes flashing stormy grey then black and back to grey. He could picture how red Bucky’s lips would be from kissing and biting. Steve wanted to trace the flush from Bucky’s cheeks down to his chest but couldn’t seem to make his arms move.

Bucky watched Steve’s mouth, parted lips and wet tongue as it darted out, his breath hitching slightly as Bucky’s hands moved beneath the water. Every few seconds a sound of want fell from Steve, louder in the bathroom and its stone surfaces, an amazing sound that Bucky wanted to hear over and over.

He could judge now when Steve was on the precipice of release, even without the blond saying anything, as he’d committed to memory every small expression his lover showed. This was nice, warm and slick and calm, but Bucky didn’t want this to end here. “Turn around,” he breathed against Steve’s cheek, hands still moving.

Water sloshed over the side of the tub as Steve turned. He managed to get around without slipping or falling face first into the water. Bucky’s hands guided Steve back to press against his chest, cock caught between Steve’s cheeks. Steve squirmed at the sensation, a grin pulling one side of his mouth up at the sound of need in his ear.

“Like this?” he hummed as he moved his body against Bucky’s.

Bucky hands gripped Steve’s hips, fingers digging in, uncaring that he might leave marks. In fact, leaving marks made his heart race quicker. It’s not that anyone else would _see_ the marks, but _he’d_ know they were there, right under the fabric of Steve’s clothes. “Yes,” he hissed against Steve’s back, tongue tracing a line up Steve’s spine.

His hand snaked under Steve, fingers pressing against him, testing, teasing. “I want to feel you wrapped around me, slowly, up and down, until you can’t take it anymore.”

“You keep talkin’ like that I’m not even gonna - _fuck_ -” Steve shuddered at the press of Bucky’s fingers on his hips, “not even gonna make it that far.”

“Talkin’ like you make me so goddamn hard I can’t even think? I wanna fuck you, Steve, until you can’t think of nothing but me. Want to watch you get off on my dick so hard that you feel me walking around, sitting, can’t shift without thinking of me lovin’ you.” Bucky nipped down Steve’s neck to his shoulder, feeling each jerk against his body. 

“I wanna taste you in my mouth, wanna ride you, take you in me like no one else. I can’t keep my hands off of you, want fucking everything with you.” Steve shuddered, body already so hard, spurred on by the images and feelings Bucky’s words formed in his head. 

Fingers pushed against Steve, stretching, making sure his body was ready. He heard the gasp fly past Steve’s lips as he pushed with another finger, working them in and out, preparing so whatever pain caused was washed away with pleasure, so it was hard to tell where one started and the other ended.

The soap in the water made everything slick, so when Bucky positioned himself, pressing his cock against Steve’s opening, the tip moved in easily, earning a sigh from Steve and a groan from Bucky.

Feeling Bucky in him was still so damn overwhelming, and every part of him was so sensitive that he felt like he was going to just explode out of his skin. Finally sinking all the way down on Bucky, Steve groaned and let his head fall back. He tried, Steve really tried to move himself up, but all he could managed was rocking his hips back and forth, little _ah ah ah_ breaths escaping him each time Bucky hit another perfect spot inside of him.

“Love, I can’t, please,” he pleaded, “it’s too much.”

Bucky stopped moving at Steve’s words, hands coming up to rest on Steve’s shoulders. “What do you need from me, baby?” Bucky asked, not wanting to force Steve into anything he couldn’t handle.

“Take me to bed. Hold me down and fuck me until I can’t move. Help me come, please, Bucky,” Steve managed to get out between heaving breaths. “Can.. that’s… is that okay?” Bucky had wanted Steve to control his own pleasure, but Steve could barely think with how good it felt.

“I can do that.”

Bucky pulled out of Steve, both of them making pathetic sounds, the lack of contact physically jarring. Bucky toweled off Steve, taking his time and paying his body the attention it deserved. When Steve was vibrating with need, panting at Bucky’s movements, Bucky led them back to the bed. He pushed Steve back, crawling up the blond’s body, dropping kisses to every rib, every freckle, every piece of skin he could.

“On your front, yeah, love, that’s it,” Bucky said, voice like silk. He shoved a pillow under Steve’s hips, guiding so that Steve’s dick was trapped against his stomach. The friction made Steve shudder and twitch. Bucky grabbed the lube from the night stand, opened it, and placed a good bit on his fingers before turning his attention back to Steve. Pressing his fingers in, Bucky took his time making sure that Steve was ready, muscles relaxed and pliant. Bucky used a little more lube on himself, stroking his cock until he was gasping with each movement.

“Are you ready for me, love?” he asked Steve. 

Steve nodded, pushing against where Bucky just hovered outside of his hole, teasing them both. Bucky pushed into Steve, hard and hot, and so turned on. Steve’s back was covered in bites, bruises from earlier. Bucky could see the beginnings of lines down Steve’s sides from his nails and it sent a wave of arousal down his spine.

Inch by inch, Bucky moved moved out, slowly, so slowly, that it stole the air from Steve’s lungs, leaving him unable to make a noise. He was full, and hard, and he took in a deep, shaky breath when Bucky began to push back in.

“How’s that, baby?” Bucky asked, punctuating his question with a hard, deep thrust, giving Steve what he’d asked for.

“Uh huh,” Steve moaned into the bed. “More.” He reached to grab the headboard, pressing back into Bucky. He let out a sharp cry when he felt Bucky’s warm hand push down between his shoulder blades, the other holding tight enough to his hip to leave more bruises. Bucky’s hips snapped into Steve and he screamed.

Bucky’s thrust were hard, deep, his whole body rolling with the movement. There were a steady stream of grunt and shouts and screams coming from Steve, which were interspersed with cries of _yes_ and _more_ and _fuck me_. 

“That’s it,” Bucky growled, hand grabbing Steve’s shoulder, using it as leverage to pull Steve back against him as he pushed forward, their bodies meeting with the sound of skin on skin, echoing off the walls, the bed creaking with the pace. “Feels so good, want to give you all of me.”

Unable to hold back anymore, each thrust from Bucky sending him higher and higher, Steve came, hard, and messy, and screaming Bucky’s name over and over again. Fire shot through him, a wave of Power cracking the window before all of the bulbs in the room shattered, shooting sparks in the air around them.

Feeling Steve go, hearing him scream his release, hurried Bucky, his hips meeting Steve’s impossibly hard and fast. When Steve could no longer say words, was left just gasping and moaning, _that_ was when Bucky came, his vision going white. “Fuck!”

Bucky did his best not to collapse on Steve, catching himself with arms on either side of the man below him, panting and sweating, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything but languish through the end of orgasm and the come down after. It took several minutes for either of them to move, but when they did, both of them cried out, their bodies no longer one. Bucky hit the bed next to Steve, on his side and breathing heavy. He looked at Steve, face still pressed against the comforter, pink cheeked and indescribably handsome. 

“Damn, Rogers.”

Steve managed to open his eyes, then blinked to clear them. Bucky looked wrecked, absolutely fucked out and beautiful. Steve’s fingers itched to draw him this way, to capture the beauty and stunning curve of his best friend’s face. He managed to roll to his side, tugging Bucky to him, heart still beating fast and breath still heavy.

“Right back at you. Holy shit, you’re good at that. Like, woah, amazing.”

Laughing tiredly, Bucky rested his forehead in the space where Steve’s shoulder met neck, pressing a kiss to the skin. “I’ve got a good partner,” he breathed, arm draping over Steve’s side, their skin slick with sweat. “Think I could convince you to take a nap with me?”

Steve laughed, reaching out to place a kiss on Bucky’s forehead. “Tired?”

“Nah, just need a recharge, for later.” He looked up at Steve with a smile, Bucky’s hunger for the man seemingly insatiable. 

“I’d love a nap with you,” Steve replied. With a thought, the glass became unshattered and the bulbs were like new. He pressed another kiss to Bucky’s forehead, and closed his eyes.

“Buck.”

“Mmmm, yes, love?”

“We’re in the woods.” Steve sang the vowels of the last word.

“Yes. Yes we are.” Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that turned his lips as he leaned against his truck. The nap they’d taken had given him the energy he’d needed. His eyes weren’t open, just enjoying the feel of the fall air on his skin, but he could _feel_ Steve vibrating with energy beside him. He understood the unending void of energy Steve was pulling from; the last twelve hours before Bucky’s birthday had been like a rush of emotions, of power, of raw unbridled _energy_. Despite attempting to get their energy out _several delicious times_ during the day, he was still ready and eager to go.

It was infectious.

But Bucky also knew that an anchor was needed. Sam had had it the worst, being the first to turn twenty-one, not sure what to expect. He’d led Bucky and Clint through it from experience, helping them by becoming what he’d not had - a tether, something real to hold on to as they drifted on the waves of power.

Bucky was trying to be that for Steve, but his lover was handling the change better than they had. Steve was just… _happy_. He was climbing the walls and crawling out of his skin, but underneath it all was a serenity. Bucky knew the blond had worried about this not happening for him, and despite the assurances, he’d still felt like maybe he wasn’t worthy.

It was an echo of him not valuing himself enough. But that was okay, because Bucky could value Steve enough for the both of them.

“Something you like about the woods in particular? Perhaps a small yellow bear with a shirt but no pants?”

“Pants, no pants. I like that idea,” Steve smiled, fingers playing with the hem of Bucky’s shirt, pulling it out of said pants, and running his hands up smooth, warm skin. Steve knew that the skin was covered in scratches and bites, evidence of the past twelve hours they’d spent with each other. 

“It’s all fall with leaves and smells and pumpkins and birthday. And don’t I get fun birthday things?” He crowded Bucky into his truck, hands on either side of Bucky’s shoulders, hips and chest flush. Steve pressed his mouth against Bucky’s, soft and light. He grinned when he felt Bucky’s hands slip into his back pockets.

The hairs on Bucky’s arms stood up, the smallest gust of wind sending his hair fluttering. It wasn’t natural, but came from the person pressed against him, most likely unconsciously. He wasn’t going to scold Steve, tell him to contain himself, because that was the whole reason they’d come out here. They were miles away from the nearest person, no risk of anyone finding them. 

Kissing Steve, Bucky flexed his fingers, digging into the blond’s ass through his jeans, grinding just the tiniest bit. “Are you saying you want one of your presents early?”

“Isn’t it about celebrating the birthday all day?” Steve nipped at Bucky’s lower lip. They didn’t even notice the little sparks of energy flicking around them. “Do I get to unwrap my gift, or is it one of those kind where I just close my eyes and hold my hands out?”

“There’s an unwrapping of a sort,” Bucky teased, reaching out to tug at Steve’s t-shirt, pulling it free from his jeans. “And I suppose something for you to hold in your hand, too.”

The branches above them swayed gently as he laced his fingers with Steve’s and led them away from the truck. They walked to the other side of the giant oak, where a line of metal fencing separated one field from another. As he turned, making Steve walk backward, he pulled Steve’s shirt over his head, tossing it to the grass.

His fingers worked at Steve’s pants, a small sound of surprise and heat fell his mouth when Bucky realized Steve’s pants had a button fly. Steve _knew_ Bucky had a thing for buttons and the punk had done it on purpose. He flicked each of the buttons with purpose, biting at Steve’s lips.

Steve cupped Bucky’s face with his hands, trusting him to keep them moving without tripping or falling. Their breath made little clouds in the air, and Steve could feel goosebumps starting along his arms, but he was burning up everywhere Bucky touched him. He didn’t want to stop kissing Bucky long enough to take his shirt off, but he wanted more skin on his own. 

“Jesus, Bucky,” Steve hissed as Bucky’s fingers brushed against him. Heat shot through him, feeling like a punch to the gut. 

The way Steve said his name when he was drunk with lust made Bucky strain against his own jeans, the friction almost too uncomfortable. He stopped moving when Steve’s back hit the fence, hearing the blond’s sharp intake of breath as the cool metal touched his skin. His hands wrapped around Steve, pushing his jeans so they hung low on his hips. He was bare, nothing under the denim, and Bucky sucked at Steve’s clavicle. His boyfriend had checked off several things on Bucky’s favorite list, and he was ready to show Steve just how much he appreciated it.

“Grab the fence,” Bucky growled, his hand moving up and down, his wrist turning _just so_ when he got close to his head, feeling the shiver go up Steve’s spine.

“Not ‘til this is off, too,” Steve gasped, pulling Bucky’s shirt off over his head, ripping it in the process. He made to grab the bars of the fence, when Bucky shook his head.

“Nuh uh. Lean back, baby, grab lower,” he directed, moving Steve’s hand exactly to where he wanted it. He took a moment to drink in the lines of Steve, bent back over the top railing, left hand low, bringing his body into a bow. Bucky ran his hands from Steve’s shoulder down his arms to his hands, wrapping their fingers together. “Hold on right here. Don’t let go, mmm?”

Steve shuddered, biting his lower lip, breathing hard through his nose. He was on display for Bucky, every bit of him laid bare. He could feel each pulse of blood going through him, his focus narrowed to the man in front of him.

“I won’t.”

Bucky took his time, Steve’s arched back giving him free access to every piece of skin he wanted to touch, and kiss, and lick. He didn’t rush, though he could practically see the anticipation inside Steve, vibrating with need. Bucky’s tongue swept across Steve’s collarbones, the small divots where his shoulder met his neck. His fingers trailed down his sides, smirking when Steve strained, fingers gripping the metal of the fence tighter.

Steve was true to his word, not letting go of the fence, jaw clenching as Bucky continued his slow, controlled movements over his skin.

Hands held Steve still, Bucky’s tongue tracing down the lines on either side of Steve’s inner thighs. He let his teeth drag across the skin, enough to hint at pain and the thrill of pushing past the point of pleasure. Steve’s body shook, his breath coming out in pants.

Bucky’s chin bumped against Steve, velvet and smooth and so, _so_ warm. He looked up the long, lean lines of Steve’s body, eyes darkened with heat and the haze of sex. When he wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock, thumb brushing over the shiny bit of precome, the shudder shook the blond from his toes to the top of his ears.

“Eyes on me, love,” Bucky whispered when Steve’s eyes screwed shut, face flushed with need.

Steve gasped as Bucky took the whole head of his cock all at once, Bucky’s mouth hot and wet, and so good. His hands itched to run through Bucky’s hair, run over his shoulders, around to his chest. He wanted to feel the welts he’d already left, the marks from his fingers raking down Bucky’s back.

His tongue worked against Steve, knowing where to slide to make him gasp, how much pressure was needed for Steve to hiss out his name, what it took to make his hips buck upward into him. Bucky’s hand moved in tandem, curling around Steve’s dick, meeting his lips, wrapping around the entire length of Steve before moving up and starting all again.

Steve was calling his name like a mantra - _BuckyBuckyBucky_ \- and as much as Bucky desperately wanted to wrap his hand around himself and chase Steve as they both came, he wanted to focus all his attentions on the man in front of him. He wanted Steve to scream his name into the air, with no one but the trees to hear it echo. He wanted his boyfriend to fall apart so Bucky could put him together and do it all over again.

_God, you taste so good, Steve. So sexy. Want to make you feel good, watch your face as I wrap my lips around you._

Steve couldn’t help the flicks of Power that snapped down his body and onto Bucky. They moved like phantom fingers, caressing and pressing everywhere skin showed in the predawn light. 

Steve’s back bowed as he pumped his hips helplessly, trying to watch his dick disappearing between those beautiful red lips, stretched and wet around him. He felt like he was going to fly out of his skin, and that Bucky was the only thing keeping him on the ground. “Please,” Steve gasped.

At Steve’s words, Bucky slowed. He knew Steve was taut, like a rubber band, so close and feeling the Power, but he knew Steve needed a level. Something to siphon the energy so he didn’t explode when the power flew into him. 

He drew Steve from his mouth, staring up at the blond as he licked a single line from the base of Steve’s dick to the tip. He watched the shudder, heard the intake of air and the whispered ‘ _fuck_ ’ that fell from Steve’s lips. He switched, taking as much of Steve as he could, hand splayed and spread on Steve’s stomach, Bucky’s chin brushing along the buttons of Steve’s fly as he pressed lips tight. 

“ _Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuck, god Bucky, you’re so good, shit, fuck, Bucky, I can’t, please, BuckyBuckyBucky_!” Steve moaned out loud and in Bucky’s head, sending out his feelings and thoughts. Power made his eyes glow with fire, spilling over into Bucky, into the ground, into the metal of the fence, and the electric lines.

Bucky could tell Steve was close, the small noise of want and need falling from his lips over and over again. Bucky focused on the build, mouth working quickly, hand squeezing up and down in time with his mouth’s movement, syncing the two. He wanted this release for Steve, powerful and heady, wanted to feel the rush of power as he fell off the edge.

_I want to feel you spilling down my throat, Steve. Want to taste you, make you come, swallow until you beg me to stop and then keep going. Do it, baby. Come for me. Give me what I want._

How could Steve do anything but come for Bucky? His hands tore into the metal railing, crumpling under his hands as he screamed out his release, power making it stronger and longer than he’d ever felt. 

He came down Bucky’s throat, jerking as he felt each swallow and breath, Bucky’s hand following in tandem to his mouth.

“Buck!”

He hadn’t expected it, but as he felt Steve spasm, felt his hips moving on their own into Bucky’s mouth as he swallowed, he felt a jolt of electricity build and spark. He wasn’t sure if it was the feel of Steve letting go, the Power rush as Steve screamed his release, or the way he would feel Steve with every sense he possessed, but Bucky came, wordless and dizzy and every synapse firing at the same time.

He came up gasping for air, gripping Steve’s hips, eyes wide as it seemed another wave rushed over him, arching his back, Steve’s name tumbling from his lips. He could taste Steve, smell him, feel pinpricks of power up and down his skin. “ _Fuck, Steve, fuck_!”

Steve managed to let go of the bars to slip down in front of Bucky. His hands flailed for purchase as he stumbled down, finally finding Bucky’s hands and grabbing on. He couldn’t tell if he was still coming, or if it was power still sparking through him. He was surrounded by Bucky’s heartbeat and breathing and scent and it mixed with the woods, until he was drowning.

“Fuck. _Fuck_.”

His body was still shaking, but he could catch his breath again. Bucky’s hands convulsed around Steve’s, holding on. The grass was soft on his back as he fell to his side, feeling Steve do the same. The dew spread on his skin, quelling the heat that had come from within. He’d _never_ felt anything like this, not even close. Maybe it was because they were this close to Steve’s Ascension, maybe it was a combination of several things, but whatever it was, he was floored. There were no words for this. Well, he could say a few words - mostly _fuck_ and _Steve_ and _yes_ \- but none of them could describe what had just happened.

Bucky laughed, every muscle in his body releasing at once, feeling like a wet noodle as he looked over at Steve. “Damn. That was… _damn_.”

Steve was laughing with him, eyes still black and fire, pants undone, and chest heaving. He didn’t remember ever coming that hard before. He couldn’t do much more than look over at Bucky, smile stretching his mouth. “Goddamn.” Steve laughed again, light and loud. His phone went off from where he’d left it inside the truck. “Jesus, Mary, and all the Saints. I love you.”

“I love you,” Bucky repeated, hearing the chime of Steve’s phone again. “I can’t move, so that’s all on you, stud,” he said, hand coming up to his chest as he kept breathing heavily, shoulders shaking with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com)


	16. More Human Than Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: _”Family isn’t about the blood you share. It’s about the people willing to bleed for you.”_ \- Sherrilyn Kenyon, _Born of Fury_
> 
> Steve Ascends. There are waffles.

It had gotten dark hours ago. Clouds had rolled in, a storm front _not_ of their making causing lightning and thunder on the horizon. There was a cool wind from the east, but Steve couldn’t feel anything but heat and electricity on his skin. He was pacing from one end of the barn to the other, running hands up and down his arms anxiously. 

Sam, Clint and Bucky were watching him with understanding, empathetic eyes as he moved. Bucky glanced down at his watch. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Somebody say something,” Steve said, eyes glancing up at them as he paced.

“Like what? You’re making me dizzy.”

Sam shot Clint a look before he stood up, crossing to where Steve was. He put two hands on Steve’s shoulders, giving the blond a sympathetic look. “I know how you’re feeling. You’ll be fine.”

“It looked like it hurt when you guys -”

“Just for a bit. It’s a lot of power going into a pretty small vessel.”

“Can we not call him a vessel? It’s creepy.” Clint stood, walking toward Steve and Sam. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling the static in the air raising the hair up and down his arms.

Bucky sighed, joining the rest, placing a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder and reaching out to thread his fingers with Steve’s. “You’ve only got a few minutes left.”

“What if it doesn’t work? Or something is different from you guys’ change?”

“You’re going to be fine. We’re here with you, whatever happens.” 

Steve looked into Sam’s face, the first one of them to experience this, and believed him when he said they were in this together.

“I love you guys,” Clint said, no mirth or joke in his voice, just a sincere smile on his face as he threw his arm across Sam’s back, right hand gripping Bucky’s shoulder. 

This was everything, right here. These boys. These men, his _brothers_. Steve had never been alone, not really, ever since fifth grade. Since the year they had all turned fifteen, and each of their fathers had sat them down and told them that they were _different_ , special, and what changes their bodies were facing. Their responsibilities, to themselves and to each other, all of it coming to a head here.

Yes, Steve was nervous, but not terrified. They were _here_ , would always be here, with him and for him.

Steve felt the old floorboards underneath him creak, saw large hand-smithed nails start to pop out of their places, chased by the smell of ozone and petrichor. The air tasted like pennies and mint. Steve could feel Power rolling towards him. He met Bucky’s eyes, dark with black and fire. just like his own, and took one long, deep breath before the Power slammed into him. 

It felt like lightning had crashed through the top of the roof and struck Steve. The feeling of bites travelled up and down his arms, under his skin, through every fiber of his being. He burned and felt like ice and couldn’t understand how he was still contained within his body. The rush was indescribable, and suddenly he understood why the others had never been able to tell him exactly what it’d felt like.

There were no words, nothing in any language that could explain the Power as it burned within his veins, ice and lava and the very earth beneath his feet rushing in time. He screamed, certain his body would burst into a million pieces.

Steve looked down at his arms, sure he’d see fissures in the skin where he was being ripped apart, but instead seeing the glow, like the lightning that had hit him was lighting him from within. He shone, like the moon made flesh. He was still screaming, waiting for the moment where everything would go black.

And then there was nothing. He opened his eyes experimentally, not sure if he even had eyes anymore, if he even had a _body_ anymore as he could only feel… white noise. Like waves lapping against sand and rocks as it had for a millennia before he was born.

He was glowing, the power solidifying in his chest, but he wasn’t the only one lighting the interior of the barn. He blinked back tears as he saw all of them, Bucky and Sam and Clint, glowing with that same otherwordly light. They looked shocked as well, each of their mouths opened in awe, not sure what this was.

They were all hovering above the ground, making a perfect diamond, eyes black and fire, mist and smoke making circles around them. Steve blinked as he saw a thin gold tendril curl it’s way out of his chest, like it was searching for something. It hit Bucky’s chest, and went from dull to brightest new gold, snapping to a solid line. Another went to Clint, then to Sam. They shuddered as tendrils connected them to each other, making a web of shining gold. Clint mouthed _What the fuck_ , as tendrils left him to connect to the other men. Sam’s eyes went wider as the same happened to him, and then Bucky.

He had stopped yelling, they all had, when Steve saw shapes over Sam’s shoulder. He could see movement, but it was almost like he couldn’t look at them straight on. Bodies. Faces. Only in his peripheral, at the edges of his vision. And then… He thought one of them…

”Dad?”

The vision was like smoke, something fragile, but it was Steve’s father, smiling with pride and looking exactly as he had the last time he’d been alive. He didn’t speak, just nodded toward his son. The first hot tear rolled down Steve’s cheek, uncertain if he could speak, unable to look away.

There were faces, wisps of people surrounding the four of them where they hovered. Some of them were familiar, their smiles gracing some of the photo albums at home, grandfathers and great grandfathers, back through the generations. Thin, soft gold lines led to and from each of them, the web spreading out in all directions. The lines of Power, passed down, gifted to each of them.

Steve reached out, a finger touching the line that came from his chest, feeling it thrum like a guitar string. It vibrated and sang with a hum as it traveled outward, until it touched the others at the same time, shaking within them, then cascading into the darkness. His eyes followed the line, seeing how far it went. He saw one line, faint and almost fading away, as it traveled out of the barn and disappeared into the night.

He turned back to find the face of his father, crying out when he began to fade from sight. His father smiled, bringing a hand to rest over his heart, and Steve swore he heard his father’s words in his ear.

_I am so proud of you and the man you’ve become_

His father vanished, along with everyone else, before everything went white.

Steve opened his eyes slowly, blinking them, trying to focus. He was on the floor of the barn, he thought, and he could hear crows squawking in the distance. The floor was warm, and moving? He thought for a moment, then realized the floor was Clint’s purple t-shirt covering his stomach. Steve’s hand was laced with Bucky’s and Sam’s head was on Steve’s thigh. A tangled pile of arms and legs.

Steve cleared his throat. “Everyone okay?”

Clint grunted. “I feel like I just got my ass kicked by Natasha and then had tantric sex while aceing a physics exam.”

“That is definitely not how mine went,” Sam answered, trying to sit up but unable to find the energy just yet.

“Did you see -”

“My dad,” Steve said, tears still wet on his face, “I saw my dad.”

“My gramps looked _good_ ,” Sam laughed, sounding just a bit tipsy and drunk with the power that had poured through them.

The men laid there, until their bodies no longer thrummed and their breathing had returned to normal. Finally, Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand, groaning as he sat up. He gave Sam his other hand and groaned as they both came to stand. They turned to Clint, pulling him to his feet. They started to lift Steve from the ground and laughed when they suddenly let go, his butt hitting the dirt, a small cloud of dust kicking up..

“Oh my god, you’re so heavy!”

“You’re like 300 pounds now.”

“Are your bones made of adamantium?”

“Clint you are a giant nerd, I don’t care who your girlfriend is.”

“Suck it.”

“I think that’s Barnes’ job now, innit?”

Finally making it to his feet, Steve laughed, feeling lighter than he had in months. The rest of them joined in, surrounding him with hugs and laughter.

“I want waffles. Anyone up for waffles?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com)


	17. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: _This is my skin. This is not your skin, yet you are still under it._ – **Iain Thomas, I wrote this for you**
> 
> The group celebrates Steve’s birthday in style. The next morning, Darcy, Steve, and Bucky have breakfast and more than just presents are shared.

Darcy took the day to wallow. It was a quality wallow, with Steve’s stolen sweatshirt and Bucky’s socks, her head in Jane’s lap and bad Chinese in her stomach as they watched _Bridget Jones’ Diary_. Steve had texted her to see if she was still coming out for his birthday. 

_Of course I am, wouldn’t miss it!_

Darcy wouldn’t let douchebag Grant Ward ruin Steve’s birthday; wouldn’t give him any more of her time; wouldn’t let the fact that she hadn’t seen something _so dark_ in him wreck the plans they’d already made.

Sarah Rogers had texted her that morning, making sure she was safe and doing alright. She’d only met the woman once but Sarah was checking on her like she’d known her forever, like she’d grown up with the boys and was a part of the family. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Jane asked as they walked through campus toward Steve and Bucky’s, looking over at her friend in concern. “If you -”

Darcy stopped moving on the sidewalk, the black skirt of her dress billowing as cold gusted out of an alley and into them. She reached out and grabbed Jane’s arm. “I am not going to hide from my life because some asshole thought I was property. If anything, going out shows him _I_ make my own choices. _Where_ I go out, _when_ I go out, and _who_ I go out with. So tonight, I’m going to dance, and be pretty, and possibly drink too much. I’m not going to let him ruin another memory.” 

She smiled softly, trying to show Jane that really was doing okay. “And if I end up throwing up in your purse, that’s just how it’s going to be.”

Jane could see the smile on Darcy’s lips, but she was still worried about how Darcy was _really_ feeling. She hadn’t let the younger woman out of her sight since they’d gotten back to Trinity. There was no reason for her to believe anything was going to happen, but she still felt guilty about not being there, despite what Darcy had said.

And if they _did_ happen to see Grant Ward, she had a knee with the name of his balls on it.

Earlier, Darcy had helped Jane cover the love bites on her neck, using the cover-up Natasha had suggested as a better method for covering hickeys. The makeup had also helped cover the bruises that were beginning to fade to a dull green color around Darcy’s wrist. Slotting her arm in Jane’s, she started back down the sidewalk to where Jamie had said they were meeting. 

“We’re going to have fun. That’s the only thing I want to worry about tonight.” 

“Darcy, Jane!” Steve called as he bounded toward them. 

Steve’s face was split into a wide grin and any sour or angry thoughts Darcy had swirling in her head faded, until her smile matched his in brightness.

“I’m so glad you could come,” Steve said into her hair as he wrapped his arms around Darcy and hugged her, hard. He’d have completely understood if she didn’t feel up for going out for his birthday. After everything that had happened on Halloween… 

_No_ , he thought. She was there, with them, safe and smiling, and that was all that mattered.

Bucky followed behind Steve, shaking his head with laughter. He waved hello at Jane, then pulled Darcy into a hug when Steve finally let her go. “He’s always like this on his birthday. He loves birthdays. It’s like he thinks it’s about him or something,” Bucky said, taking a deep breath as he hugged her, the scent of _Darcy_ filling his lungs.

“Don’t know what would give him that idea,” Clint said, walking up with his arm around Natasha’s shoulders, Sam and Wanda holding hands behind them. Everyone was huddling against one another for warmth, breaths fogging in the dark winter air.

“I mean, it happens every year,” Sam said with a wry shake of his head, “you’d think he’d be used to it.”

“Granted this one was a little bigger than normal.” All the boys turned to look at Clint, who shrugged his shoulders at their expressions.

“Yeah! We don’t have to risk jail time getting you drunk!” Darcy said, laughing as she threw her arms around Steve again.

Laughing, Steve left his arm around Darcy’s shoulders, turning to look at Bucky expectantly. “Well?”

“Well, what? You think I made plans?” Bucky smirked, putting Darcy between them with an arm around her waist, nodding his head toward the small pedmall off the main campus drag. The bars would be getting full about now, bodies pressed together for flat warm beer and yelling at each other over the music. Bucky’d heard a local DJ was playing at _The Summit_ and had already booked one of the VIP sections. 

The group made their way, laughing amongst themselves as they joined the throng of people, students and townies alike, toward the main thoroughfare of Trinity campus bars. The dive bars were there, still crowded and perfectly adequate, but this was Steve’s twenty-first birthday and Bucky had reasoned that all stops needed to be pulled.

Bucky left Darcy’s side, walking up to the bouncer, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. Everyone milled a bit, watching Bucky work his magic. In a few minutes, they were waved past the line of people waiting outside, who made noises of complaints and shot them a few dirty looks, as they bypassed the wait.

Darcy didn’t care. She could hear the music pumping from inside and smell the slightly stale smell of spilled alcohol. She squeezed Steve, throwing him a grin, before they filed in the door and followed Bucky upstairs.

Bucky plucked the small _Reserved_ sign off of their section and gestured grandly toward them all. 

“For the birthday of our most esteemed Steve, I have booked us our own table with bottle service so we might enjoy ourselves among the riff raff,” Bucky grinned. “The dashing David and beguiling Bianca are our deliverers of deliciousness, at our service for the entire evening.”

The group moved into their section, full of soft leather couches and enough tables for all of them to sit comfortably. The second floor looked down on the first, the bottom area so packed with bodies that they couldn’t even see the floor. The bar was working on overtime, people shouting, trying to catch the bartender’s attention. The lights were low, a dizzying array of jeweled tones and the purplish hues cast by blacklights. 

“This totally blows away my birthday tiara,” Natasha commented, taking a seat on one of the black leather sofas.

“There’s a tiara?” Wanda asked, mirth filling her eyes.

“For the queen of my heart? Always,” Clint said, plastering himself to Natasha’s side. The redhead didn’t appear to mind in the least, placing a hand on his knee and squeezing.

Steve smiled, taking Bucky’s hand and pulling him for a kiss. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

Bucky savored the taste of Steve’s lips on his, “You deserve it, though I don’t know how you’re still able to be up and moving right now.” After the lack of sleep and the power that had erupted around them, he was in awe that Steve hadn’t fallen into some sort of coma.

“Oh, I plan on taking the next week to do nothing. Maybe not even leave our room. Staying in the same clothes and everything.” He laughed when Bucky’s nose crinkled, but kissed him again anyway.

Darcy moved onto the bench, sliding across the leather to knock into Sam with her shoulder. “Did you get it?”

He smiled, raising an eyebrow at her, happy that she’d made it out. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll have to ask later how you got her number.”

“I have my ways,” Darcy said with a mischievous smile. 

“Ah! Perfect timing!” Bucky grabbed the tray from Bianca, heavy with shot glasses filled with a muted yellow liquid, salt and a lime poised on the edge. He passed them out, everyone taking one, before he lifted the glass toward the ceiling. “To Steve, one of the best men I’ve never known.”

Everyone said “ _To Steve!,_ ”, except for Clint, who cried “ _To Tequila_!.” and downed the shots. 

As the DJ started to play something loud enough to shake the walls, Darcy grabbed Jane’s hand, moving toward the stairs that led down to the dance floor. Her wallowing was over for the time being. Now it was time for dancing, and sweating and blocking out anything but the beat of the music and the sweaty press of bodies.

Hours passed in a blur of laughter, drinks, and dancing. Everyone took a turn spinning Steve out on the floor, where he was an enthusiastic, if uncoordinated, dancer. Finally, he’d called uncle and made his way back to the table, sipping a cold glass of water. He smiled when Darcy plopped down next to him with a huff. She was beautiful, cheeks pink with exertion, the red of her lips glowing softly in the blacklight. 

“My kingdom for five minutes of not moving. I always forget that Jane can shake dat ass,” Darcy said, grinning tiredly. Dark tendrils curled around her face, little beads of sweat at her temples and, again, Steve thought she looked stunning.

“Thank you for coming. I’m so glad you’re here.” He had to shout to be heard over the music but hoped Darcy could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“Are you kidding? I’d never miss this. Ever. Not for you.” Darcy pushed back her damp hair, pulling the hair tie from her wrist and pulling it into a bun. She didn’t catch it all, little wisps still sliding over sweaty shoulders. She fanned herself with a napkin, leaning into Steve so he could hear her. “Thank you, for everything. You know… all of it.”

Steve smiled, trying not to let the stinging anger he still felt bleed into his eyes. He didn’t want her mind to be anywhere dark, just happy and here, with him, right now. “It’s not -”

“No, let me say this.” She scooted closer, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I never had siblings. I don’t have any cousins. Since I met you boys, I kind of know what it feels like to have a bigger family. A framily, with all of you. Jamie, and Clint, and Sam. And now Natasha and Wanda? Thank you, for letting me feel that. I’m just… _so happy_ that I saw you in class and worked up the nerve to talk to the cute guy with glasses. I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but it kinda feels like I have, too. Forever.”

She grabbed a drink off the table, not certain whose it was, but throwing it back just the same. She saw Steve open his mouth to talk, but silenced him by putting a hand over his mouth and leaning in so their faces were inches apart. Her eyes were imploring, pupils dilated, resolve on her face. 

“You, Steve Rogers, are an amazing man and person and everyone is better with you in their life. Accept it. Just fucking accept it.”

Steve took a long moment to just look at her, really look at her, before his tongue licked against her palm. He cackled when she squealed then rubbed the wetness on her leg. She glared at him. hazel eyes narrowed, and crossed her arms over her chest, lower lip jutting out. Still snickering, Steve pulled Darcy into a hug, pulling her against his body. He could smell the fruity drinks she’d been downing all night mixed with sweat and the sweet smell he’d come to associate with her.

“Thanks Darcy, that’s the best thing a guy could hear.”

She pulled back, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “But, seriously, Steve, on my Bubbie’s grave -”

“Oops, no more tequila for you, missy,” Jane said as she rushed up, grabbing the glass Darcy had in her hand and was about to drink. “Her cut off point is when she starts talking about her Bubbie.”

Darcy looked up at Jane with a scandalized look, hand reaching out for the glass held just out of her reach. “I talk ‘bout Bubbie all the time!”

“Name the last time you talked about Bubbie.”

Blinking, Darcy looked up at Jane. It looked like she was considering the question, then turned back to Steve. “Jane has hickeys from Professor Big Dick all over her body. _All. Over._ ”

“Oh my _god_!” Jane grabbed Darcy’s arm and lifted her to her feet. “What do you say we go get some water and cool off outside?”

“Water is good. Bring your purse.”

“I’m not going to let you throw up in my purse.”

Steve laughed at the sound of Darcy whining as Jane helped her down the stairs and then outside.

He’d watched her all night, keeping to the shadows, never getting close enough to be seen. It wasn’t hard to stay hidden, not with the crush of bodies and the drowning sound of music that blasted from the speakers. Sitting and nursing a beer, his eyes tracked her in the mirror hung above the bar, turning his back to her when she came near, but watching her.

Always watching.

Ward’s teeth ground, jaw clenching, every time she was touched by someone other than him. Darcy danced with several people, never sticking to one person or partner. She’d danced with the blond, laughing at his antics, dress spinning as he tried to make her dizzy. The dark-skinned man was next and her face had looked impressed with his aptitude on the floor. 

He didn’t care about those two, though. They were secondary, nothing more than friends. They had their own women and when they were done with Darcy, they left her on the floor to dance with her friend, Jane. Jane was keeping a close eye on Darcy, making sure she didn’t drink too much. She did, though, fruity drink after fruity drink. Her movements had gotten clumsy, but that didn’t stop _him_ from grabbing her, taking control of her on the dance floor.

Of the two men, the dark haired one posed the biggest threat. He was confident, sure of himself, and he moved with precision. His hands trailed over her hips as they moved, sweat beading on his brow, and despite the fact that he was obviously seeing the _other_ man, he touched Darcy’s body like he enjoyed it. Like he _wanted_ to explore it more.

Ward growled when the bartender asked him a question, glaring at the man before looking back up, realizing she was no longer visible. He stood up, dark gaze scanning the crowd, looking for her. He saw her enter the bathroom, Jane in tow. He thought of how easy it would be to overpower the two women, kill the friend and take Darcy, punish her for the things she’d said to him a few days prior. 

It wouldn’t work tonight, though. They were here with others who would miss them.

No. This wasn’t the night for them to come together again. It would happen when the time was right. In the meantime, he would make sure he knew her every move, her steps to and from class, what time the lights shut off in her window, when she woke up. He would watch, and he would wait, and when the time was right, he’d take back what was his.

When she left the bar with her friend, arm slung over the other woman’s shoulder for support, the flush in her cheeks from the alcohol, he trailed them at a distance. He wasn’t familiar with the on-campus apartment so he stayed outside, watching which light turned on so he knew where she’d be sleeping tonight.

He could hear people moving behind him, a group of students, louder than they should be, obviously drunk. Ward pulled out his phone, pretending that he was talking on it, slurring his words just a bit. If anyone remembered seeing him, he’d be just like every other dark haired student that night on the sidewalk; drunk, stumbling, trying to call a cab.

When one of the women peeled off from the group, he cast a look in her direction. She had dark hair, heels making her taller but she couldn’t have more than 5'3". 

She would do.

He walked ahead of her, keeping the ruse of his phone call. As she got closer, he moved toward one of the alleyways in between two buildings. Her friends had turned a corner, leaving her alone. Her fingers tapped on her phone, either trying to make a call or send a text message. Whatever she was doing, it left her distracted. She didn’t even see when his hand wrapped around her wrist like a vice and pulled her into the alley.

Ward pulled her into the darkness, spinning her, the sound of the back of her head hitting the brick with a sickening _crack_. She moaned, trying to speak, reaching out to fend off whatever attack was coming at her. He grabbed her phone and pulled it from her hands, slamming it on the ground, the glass front shattering as it hit the concrete.

“Wha -”

His hands wrapped around her throat, thumbs digging into her windpipe, cutting any sounds off as he squeezed. She slapped at him, blows soft, eyes widening as her alcohol-addled brain finally realized what was happening. When her nails dug into his hands, scratching bloody rivulets in the skin, he took the pain as a gift, hissing, only making him squeeze that much harder.

He closed his eyes and thought of Darcy.

Her cherry red lips. The dark hair as it flowed over her shoulder. Her laugh, rolling through her whole body. The milky whiteness of her thighs, leading to the part of her body she’d denied him. The thought Darcy, only of Darcy. He was straining in his jeans, incredibly hard, balls tightening as he imagined fucking her face, gagging her with his cock, making her beg him to stop but ignoring her pleas. She was his, now, and no one else’s.

His mind turned, causing his grip to tighten even more, thinking of those men, the two of _them_.

The ones who looked at her like only he was allowed to. He didn’t know what game they were playing, already in what he supposed constituted as a relationship, hands groping for each other in the dark of the dance floor. 

Disgusting. An abomination. Enough to make him sick just thinking about it.

But even with their perversion, still _looking_ at her with their eyes, gazes traveling over her soft curves, the pouting lips, the hazel color of her eyes. 

They had no right. 

_No. Right._

Soon, though, no one would be able to look at her, except him.

He opened his eyes, watching the woman in his hands, face blotching in red and purple as she tried to draw air into her lungs and failed. Her eyes slackened before her body did, hands no longer clawing at him but falling to her sides, limp. 

Ward stayed there, squeezing, until he came, gasping, Darcy’s name falling from his lips. He let go of the body, letting it fall to the ground as his palms dug into the brick, breathing heavily. She didn’t know it, but every woman, every life he ended, was because of her. Only her.

“How in the world do you look so _good_?” Steve asked as Darcy slid into the booth across from him at the diner.

Darcy gave him a look, chin down and eyebrow raised, clearly saying she thought he was nuts.

“Shit, I meant you had a lot to drink last night. Thought there might be a bit of the hair of the dog going on,” Steve could feel the blush creeping up on his cheeks. Yes, she looked tired. She was allowed, after the past few days, but overall, she was still gorgeous. Bright eyes. Pouting lips. Stunning.

“Jane basically force fed me water and aspirin. And pedialyte is surprisingly helpful the morning after you drink tequila.”

“And her purse?”

“Unvomited in, thankfully.” She smiled tiredly, putting her chin in her hand as she looked at the grin on his face at her words. “And you? I trust Jamie took you home and put you to bed?”

“I was a gentleman, of course,” Bucky said, sliding in beside Darcy, smirking at Steve. “Tucked him in with a bottle of water and a bucket, just in case.”

“I didn’t need the bucket. I was fine. I mean, I’ll definitely be passing out when we get back home, but a big greasy breakfast sounds perfect.”

“The other boys? And ladies?” Darcy asked after they’d ordered, leaning back when Bucky spread his arm over the back of their seat, appreciating his body heat. She was still in her dress from last night, and the Darcy from last night hadn’t thought to bring a jacket.

“I got texts. Some of them even made sense. But no, just us.”

“Their loss. Did you _see_ Clint last night? Who advised it’d be a good idea to do the worm? I can only imagine the layers of icky stuff on that floor.”

Steve laughed when his pancakes arrived with a candle in them, and even more when all of the servers and Darcy and Bucky sang happy birthday.

“Ugh, so full. So sleeeeepy,” Steve stretched, patting his belly. “Best birthday ever. “

“Not done yet,” Darcy said, reaching behind her to grab the gift she’d wrapped. It was large and wrapped haphazardly with newspaper. “It’s not much,” she added, leaning forward as he ripped at the paper. She didn’t have a lot of extra income, whatever money she scraped from work was put toward her tuition and books, but she’d been careful to budget this little thing in. For Steve.

Steve knew as he was opening the present that it was a canvas of some kind. He’d spent enough time using them in class that the size and smell of the wood was familiar. As he pushed the paper away, his breath caught in his throat. The canvas was a mess of colors; streaks of blue dimpled above the surface, rough and bumpy, green swaths of glitter and ruby shades. Two black and white pictures sat in the middle of the colorful explosion.

The one on top showed him as a 5th grader. His arms were thrown over Bucky and Sam’s shoulders, Clint tucked into the side of Sam, holding two bunny ears over Steve’s head. They were all grinning, bikes forgotten at their feet, smudges of dirt on their cheeks and the knees of their jeans.

It’d been their first summer together, when they thought they’d all become BMX stars and had tried to build their own ramp in the woods behind Steve’s home. They’d been horrible, all gangly limbs and uncoordinated, but they’d had a blast. His father had insisted on taking the picture, telling them that these were the moments you needed to hold onto, telling them they were brothers now and had to stay by each other’s sides, no matter what.

 _Family,_ he said, _doesn’t have to be blood. Family is who your heart chooses. Choose each other. Every time._

The black-and-white photo below was another of the four of them, but taken recently. They were facing away from the camera, Steve’s arms thrown over Bucky’s and Sam’s shoulders, Sam reaching up to ruffle Clint’s hair. It was a simple picture, pretty, but it was the meaning behind it, behind both pictures, that meant the most. 

Steve looked up at Darcy with tears in his eyes. There was no way for her to know the journey the four men had gone on in that barn, or the years leading up to it, but yet she’d caught it here with these two pictures. Years had passed, but they’d taken his father’s words to heart: they’d chosen each other, over and over again. It was perfect and beautiful and Steve reached up to brush away the tear before it fell down his cheek.

“This is amazing, Darcy. I… I can’t…”

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? No, I love it, Darcy. It’s… this is the best thing I’ve ever gotten. Ever, “ Steve stumbled over his words, nothing coming to mind to even vaguely convey how he felt. He set the painting on the ground against the side of the booth. Words couldn’t explain what this meant to him. Instead of words that wouldn’t do it justice, he pulled Darcy across the booth and into his lap, burying his face in her neck, pressing the lightest of kisses to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and just held on. 

Darcy’s ‘meep’ didn’t truly capture her surprise when he pulled her around the table and into his lap. Somehow Bucky had moved quickly enough to grab their drinks out of the way. Her eyes were wide as Steve crushed her in his arms. She cast a worried look in Bucky’s direction as she returned Steve’s hug.

He’d seen the look in Steve’s eyes, recognizing a few seconds before what the blond was going to do. Bucky blinked at Darcy, mildly surprised by Steve’s reaction, but knowing his boyfriend had always been emotional when it came to gifts.

As Steve continued to hide his face in Darcy’s neck and hair, Bucky reached out and grabbed the canvas that Steve had set aside. His breath stuck in his chest, heart in his throat and tightening. It was… _them_. The four of them. From before, and from now. The swell of emotion made him understand Steve’s reaction. His best friend had always been visual, trying to capture things in the strokes of his paint and the scratch of his charcoal. What Darcy had found in the combination of these two pictures? The feeling of brotherhood and family? He was almost compelled to do the same thing Steve had; wrap his arms around her and hold on.

Steve cleared his throat, and pulled back from Darcy. He pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear and smiled at her. “Thank you, so so much. I can’t wait to show the guys.They’re gonna love it, too.” 

Darcy smiled back at Steve. “I’m glad you like it.”

“But where did you -” 

Darcy stopped Steve’s question with a finger to his lips. “Nope, it’s a secret.”

Steve blinked at Darcy’s touch, then reddened when he realized that he was staring at her mouth as she spoke. She was still sitting on his lap. In the diner.

Her focus had narrowed to the man inches away from her, soft lips under the pads of her fingers. Darcy’s eyes glanced down, wondering if his lips would feel as soft against hers. She could hear her pulse in her ears as it sped up, unable to look away from the pink that was spreading onto his neck and upward to his cheeks.

Darcy was pulled out of the moment when she heard a noise from Bucky’s direction. She swallowed, suddenly self-conscious, eyes widening as she turned to look at Bucky’s side of the booth. Coughing lightly, she slid out of Steve’s lap, bare legs hitting the cold leather of the seat. “I’m really glad you like it. Is it dorm-room-wall worthy?”

Bucky’s fingers had a death grip on the seat beneath him, hidden from view, knuckles white. He hadn’t meant to make any noise, especially since it’d resulted in Darcy putting space between herself and Steve. He could see the blood rushing into both of their faces, across Darcy’s chest and to the tips of Steve’s ears. He feel his own blood rushing, but not toward his cheeks.

“It’s ‘above the fireplace and in a museum’ worthy,” Bucky assured her, reaching out to grab Darcy’s hands where they rested on the table. “Gorgeous.” He wasn’t sure he was still talking about the painting or the woman sitting across from him. 

Steve’s voice was low and gravelly, “Can’t wait to hang it up where I’ll see it every day.”

Darcy nodded. She could feel the warmth of Bucky’s hands, the slight callouses on his fingertips, and she suppressed a shudder at the zing of attraction that traveled through her. 

“Happy Birthday, Steve,” she said softly, smiling, looking down at her hands clasped in Bucky’s, warm and anchoring, avoiding their eyes. She could feel the pink filling her cheeks and she wasn’t sure what she would have said if she’d locked gazes with either of them.. 

After a few long seconds, she pulled her hands back from Bucky’s, covering her mouth as she yawned. Between the belly full of breakfast and the emotions that had raked through her over the past few days, she wanted to crawl in bed for a week and only come out for food and showers. 

“I think I’m going to head back. I need a nap. Or four.” 

Bucky nodded, sitting back in his seat, hands trailing across the table until they fell to his knees. 

Steve shook his head. “It’s kind of cold out there, we could walk you back?”

Darcy slid out of the booth, pulling the hem of her skirt down as she grabbed her purse. “CamBus should be outside any minute. Thank Trinity for their generous free student transport.” She glanced up, seeing the bus barrelling down the street through the window. “There is it now.”

She looked at them, attempting to quell the flip in her stomach, the butterflies that began flapping when they looked at her. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Steve’s cheek, then did the same to Bucky. “I’ll see you guys later. Try and get some rest!” She ran as fast as her barefeet would carry her, heels held in her hands, tossing a quick wave to the waitress on her way out.

Both of the boys turned and watched her through the window, making sure she’d gotten on the bus okay. After it’d driven out of sight, Bucky turned to Steve, tongue darting out to wet his lips. When it was quiet for a beat, he nodded toward the canvas. “Ma’s gonna want to see that.”

Steve rested his head on his arms on the table. “What makes you think she hasn’t already? _Jesus_. How does she do it, Buck?”

Bucky leaned over, rubbing Steve’s back in slow circles. “Let’s go back to the room and sleep, yeah? We’ll figure it out later.”

Ward watched the three of them in the diner, eating and laughing, no doubt bragging about which one of them had drunk the most the night prior. It was nauseating, allowing themselves to lose control like they had. His father had taught him how to control everything, how to make anyone bow to your each and every whim.

Darcy had made that impossible, with her stubbornness and refusal to follow directions.

He would teach her that lesson in a way she’d never forget.

The body in his backseat was just one more test she’d failed.

His dark gaze watched as she presented the blond one with a large wrapped gift, Ward’s eyes narrowing when the blond pulled her across the table and into his arms. His palms dug into the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, fingers going numb. 

They were close, lips almost touching, his woman cradled in the arms of another man. 

His vision was red, jaw aching, teeth clenched and grinding. He screamed his rage, knowing the car would keep any noise from being heard on the outside. Ward punched the wheel and screamed his fury until his voice was harsh, throat hurting. 

Unnoticed and unassuming, he breathed heavily, glaring into the diner, imagining all the ways he would hurt Darcy, what he’d do to those disgusting men while she watched.

After several minutes, she left the diner, catching a bus back to the campus. Ward stayed there, looking at the other men, already seeing their blood coating the walls, the room, and Darcy as she cried, unable to stop his butchering. Helpless and hopeless and _his_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you people!
> 
> We never, ever expected the reaction to this story we've gotten. Thank you so so much for all of the comments and kudos! We can't tell you the amount of squeeing that has been happening. There's a reason all the bats in the US are confused as to which direction to go.
> 
> Please stay tuned for the next installment in the series, _Mess of Unfinished Thoughts_. More Boys, More Darcy, and Ward is still fucking Creepy.
> 
>  
> 
> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddesvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)


End file.
